


Rescue Me (& Take Me In Your Arms)

by tumtatumtum



Series: Rescue Me (D/S Sterek Series) [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, BDSM, Bartender! Derek, Bondage, Boys Kissing, Dom!Derek, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Kink, Kink Negotiation, Knotting, M/M, Masturbation, Mates, Mpreg, Nipple Play, Oral Knotting, Panic Attacks, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, References to Knotting, Rimming, Self-Lubrication, Sexual Content, True Mates, a/b/o dynamics, cop! stiles, dominant derek, sub!Stiles, submissive stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-11 00:22:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4413689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tumtatumtum/pseuds/tumtatumtum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just when Stiles is starting to reach panic-attack levels of stress, a leather jacket and firm thigh are pressed right up next to him, and an arm is casually thrown over his shoulder. Stiles looks up to thank this kind person who is saving his life, and suddenly forgets what air is.</p><p>Because HOT. DAMN. Call the police and the fire-man, this guy is smoking.</p><p>Or the AU where Derek helps save Stiles from an ex, and a steamy BDSM relationship ensues- with feelings all over the place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Chance Encounter

Stiles bursts through the door of the dingy bar, eyes glancing frantically around.

 

The brightness level is definitely on “mood lighting”, so he has to squint as he stumbles through the doors and down the two steps into the place. It’s fairly standard as far as shit-holes go. There’s a grumpy, large black barkeep who is looking at him like he’s crazy, some barstools filled with patrons who look sketchy (it is midday) and some quiet booths in the corner where he sees- aha! Those are definitely male legs in jeans.

 

Without thinking Stiles runs over and slides into the booth, grabs the flimsy “Happy Hour” menu and covers his face with it, all the while babbling-

 

“Look, I’m really sorry about this and I know you don’t know me, alright? But my completely PSYCHO as in Normal-Bates-capital-letters-will-stab-you-in-the-shower-ex-boyfriend just saw me and has been following me for like four blocks, so if you could just pretend like you’re my date for like two seconds I will buy you drinks for the rest of the night.”

 

Panting Stiles tries to regain his breath, and the stranger sitting next to him doesn’t say anything. Just when Stiles is starting to reach panic-attack levels of stress, a leather jacket and firm thigh are pressed right up next to him, and an arm is casually thrown over his shoulder. Stiles looks up to thank this kind person who is saving his life, and suddenly forgets what air is.

 

Because HOT. DAMN. Call the police and the fire-man, this guy is smoking. He is literally the most gorgeous person Stiles has ever seen, and yes Stiles is using the term “literally” correctly. He looks bad boy dangerous with his sharp cheekbones, stubble and slash of a mouth, but his eyes are focused on Stiles and they are kind and concerned. Stiles thinks he is in love with this stranger, so of course what comes out of his mouth is:

 

“Never mind, I will buy your drinks for the rest of your life.”

 

Tall, dark and handsome laughs at this, a chuckle that Stiles can feel in his arm they’re sitting so close together. His smile is breathtakingly beautiful, and somehow his teeth are adorable. Stiles has never wanted to make someone smile again while simultaneously wanting them to hold him down and fuck him so good his voice goes hoarse. But hey, he’s apparently in love with a Greek statue that’s come to life. A statue that is straightening before leaning over to whisper in his ear,

 

“My name is Derek. It’ll be OK.”

 

Stiles totally whimpers. He’s man enough to admit it, he whimpers. He hasn’t made a sound like that in a long time, not since the early days when it was still good with-

 

“AID-en. Wow buddy, haven’t seen you in awhile there. How ya doin?”

 

The dirty blonde douchebag is clearly not doing well. Sure, he still looks great, but Stiles now knows that underneath those six-pack abs and shark-teeth smile is a Dom who doesn’t take safe-words too seriously. So Stiles had said ‘sayanora’ about four months in, but the break-up had not been good. Aiden didn’t take rejection in stride (shocker), and there had been a bit of stalking, some torn up mail and creepy late-night phone calls. Stiles had fixed it with a call to some of his friends in the Police Department, but it had still been hella creepy and kinda scary for awhile. A small part of him will always remember how helpless he felt at first, terrified no one would believe him or help him. Luckily, he had friends to remind him of how awesome he was and to help him deal with getting rid of Asshat McAsshole.

 

Now though? Ooooo, now he has Derek. Derek, whose arm has shifted just so, and it’s allowing him to grasp Stiles firmly by the base of the neck. Not too hard, it doesn’t hurt, but it grounds Stiles in a way that is so comforting that he-

 

Fuck, he just moaned embarrassingly loud. But he feels his head quiet, already in a better mindset than he’s been in in months. All from Derek and his magical hand.

 

Both Aiden and Derek seem surprised by Stiles’ strong reaction, but while Aiden’s look turns murderous Derek’s turns…thoughtful, though the edges of his eyes are laced with hunger. He presses a bit more on Stiles’ neck, and Stiles’ eyes flutter shut, before he makes a visible effort to open them at half-mast. Man, he feels greaaaat right now. What was he worried about again?

 

“See you’ve got a new friend there, Stiles. Bet you didn’t waste a night after we broke up, huh?”

 

“I…I dumped you, jerkface.”

 

Nice one. Really, Stiles is impressed he can string a sentence together right now. Derek snorts next to him and then starts rubbing his thumb into Stiles’ neck, a little massage that Stiles feels go straight to his cock. Thank God his lower half is under the table, but he feels like his reaction is pretty obvious, since his mouth falls open and he begins to breath heavily. Derek smirks, and fuck that’s a good look on him. Well, everything’s a good look on him, but still.

 

Without looking away from Stiles, Derek addresses Aiden in a conversational manner.

 

“Responsive, isn’t he?”

 

Derek accentuates his point with particularly strong press of his thumb into the base of Stiles’ neck, and Stiles isn’t even acting- he lets out a real groan and his body raises a bit off the bench. Whatever, he’ll be embarrassed about it later.

 

He totally won’t. He’ll probably jerk off to this a bajillion times.

 

Aiden looks like he swallowed a sour grape, and Stiles knows why- it always took Aiden forever to get Stiles into the right headspace, and those times were few and far between. It’s like the deepest recesses of Stiles’ mind never trusted Aiden, and Stiles is grateful now- his dick can be an absolute traitor to the rest of his body.

 

“If you wouldn’t mind, Stiles and I are in the middle of something.”

 

It’s phrased politely, but the underlying threat of violence in Derek’s voice is also doing lovely things for Stiles’ cock. He already knows he would do unspeakable things to be Dommed with that exact voice. He’s mentally committed his foreseeable future to becoming Derek’s perfect partner, because he wants nothing more than to worship at the glory of this fine specimen.

 

Jesus, he’s never gonna let this guy go.

 

Aiden, apparently, also has similar ideas of letting things go. Because he also smirks and takes a step closer, saying,

 

“Actually, this seems like a… great…. place to have a meal. Think I’ll go over there and have myself a cold one.”

 

Then he walks over to the bar and sits on the barstool like he owns the place. The bartender, who Stiles can now see is also quite handsome and built, hands him a menu and then glances over at Derek. Derek gives a quick nod, so the bartender busies himself cleaning glasses.

 

“F-friend of yours?”

 

Derek snaps his attention back to Stiles and fixes him with another searching gaze. Then he nods, shrugging.

 

“Boyd and I are co-owners of this place. I know it’s not much to look at, but we’ve got great local beer and fantastic burritos. Would you like to stay for dinner?”

 

“Would I like to stay forever?”

 

Oh God. The hottest being on the planet just asked him out, and he quoted the grandmother from _Mulan_. Stiles prays fervently to every deity he can remember for spontaneous combustion. Then he peeks over and sees the quick, amused smile on Derek’s face before it’s back to its set stoic expression.

 

“God, my nieces have made me watch that movie like 15 times. My sister wants them to have ‘positive female role models’”.

 

“Your sister sounds awesome.”

 

At this Derek gives him a genuine, bunny-teeth smile. Stiles solemnly swears in his head to make this one his.

 

Derek retracts his hand from Stiles’ neck, and Stiles whimpers from the loss. He shoots Derek puppy eyes, and is rewarded with a quick glare of pure lust from Derek. He can feel his own facial features morph, forming what he is sure is a wanton look. Good, Derek should absolutely be aware of how much Stiles wants him. Derek shakes his head, flash of a smile once again on his face before he waves Boyd over.

 

“Hey, this is Stiles. Abercrombie & Bitch over there is his ex. We’re gonna need some Full Moon Ales and two- you eat meat, right?”

 

“I’ll eat your meat any day.”

 

Seriously. Just kill him already. At least Boyd cracks up at this, and Derek also looks amused. Well, his eyebrows do anyway (should Stiles be able to read him this well so soon?).

 

“…two Meat Lovers Burritos. The full fixings. Oh, and some nacho fries.”

 

“Please and thank you, sorry for what comes out of my mouth.” Stiles adds.

 

Boyd just grins, and looks about 5 years younger when he does. Then he salutes Derek and strides off into the kitchen like the food-wrangling cowboy he is. Which means Derek’s full attention is now back on Stiles, something Stiles is _fully_ onboard with.  

 

“So…Stiles, what do you do?”

 

From there they fall into an easy conversation. Stiles can talk forever about his job as a Cedar Falls Detective and about his partner Scott. They’re still earning their stripes, but Stiles is confident their star is rising. Stiles can also talk forever about his Dad, who he worries about constantly as Sheriff of the small town of Beacon Hills-

 

“You’re kidding. My family’s from there.”

 

Derek talks then too, not as much or as fast, but Stiles savors every word because he gets the sense that Derek doesn’t talk about himself often. After a fire that almost killed his entire family (another WAY crazy-ex) Derek moved to Cedar Falls, where he started this bar with his business degree and partner-in-crime Boyd. Derek has a big family that doesn’t blame him for the fire but-

 

“It’s hard to be there. To know the reason we don’t have any childhood photos is because they were all lost in the fire, because of me. I just-wanted to get a fresh start, you know?”

 

Stiles takes Derek’s hand without a thought and starts telling him boy does he know, you try going into law enforcement in a small town where your dad is a local legend. Stiles talks about the crazy shenanigans he and Scott got into when they were younger, and Derek listens and interjects a dry and witty comment every now and then. It’s the best conversation Stiles has had in a long time, and when the food comes Stiles realizes a few things:

 

1) They hadn’t stopped holding hands that entire time.

 

2) He hadn’t even thought about Aiden, who he is sure is somewhere glaring.

 

3) Derek knew. About the neck. About Stiles, about the kink. Derek is actually into kink!

 

Stiles internally does backflips and sets off fireworks, while externally shoves delicious burrito goodness into his face. God, Derek was not kidding, this is his new favorite thing to eat. He’s totally bringing Scott here. He tears in wholeheartedly, and misses the way Derek almost chokes on his own food every time Stiles moans around a mouthful of bean and meat.

 

After their plates are cleared away by a buxom and beautiful blonde (seriously, what is the deal with the level of hotness in this place?) they settle back to digest, but are both excited over the nacho fries that come out afterwards. Idly picking through and sipping on their third round of delicious beer, Stiles feels brave. He’s full, his ex is probably somewhere pissed, there’s a gorgeous man to his left and he is getting his buzz on. It’s game time.

 

“So how’d you get into kink?”

 

Derek smiles over the rim of his glass, and fixes Stiles with a look that is two parts a coy “come-hither” and three parts “I-will-remake-you-sexually”. Stiles feels his mouth go dry and swallows a large gulp of liquid as Derek talks.

 

“My crazy-ex. She wanted me to sub though and that never…sat right. One of the many reasons we called it quits. Came here, there’s always people looking for a fix. I learned bits and pieces as I went along, was lucky enough to have some really kind and patient teachers. There’s a group that meets once a month, and I’m there pretty frequently. I like watching and learning what I can.”

 

Stiles nods and digests.

 

“No one…serious, though?”

 

Derek’s eyes are all predatory.

 

“If you’re asking if I’ve ever thought someone looked pretty enough to keep them kneeling between my legs long-term, then the answer is no. Nobody’s quite fit.”

 

Derek’s leaned in now, and though sitting they’re about the same height Stiles feels blanketed by his presence. He leans in too, offering his neck and in mock surrender, and is proud his voice is so steady when he does speak.

 

“I haven’t knelt between your legs.”

 

“Do you want to?”

 

“God yes, _please_ Derek.”

 

It’s the ‘please’ that gets him, Stiles knows it. He makes a mental note that begging is on Derek’s “I Really Like That” list. Because Derek growls, low in his throat and pulls Stiles forward so that he’s practically in Derek’s lap. Derek’s hand is back on Stiles’ neck and their foreheads are pressed together. Though Stiles’ back is facing the bar, he feels protected and safe in Derek’s half-embrace, half-manhandle.

 

“I’m going to give you my number and email. We’re going to discuss our kinks, sign a temporary contract.”

 

Stiles is nodding as much as he can, already breathless because this close Derek’s smell is overpowering, spicy with male musk and incredibly sexy. He’s also beyond excited by the idea of a contract, however temporary. It signifies how much Derek is actually into him, that Stiles isn’t imagining the major UST in the booth.

 

“I’m going to walk you home, and I’m going to kiss you goodnight. You’re going to call me tomorrow at 1 PM, and we’ll begin discussions from there. Is that understood?”

 

“Yes-fuck yes, all the yes.”

 

Derek smiles, and whispers “Good boy” right into Stiles’ ear.

 

Stiles does moan load at that, but fuck if this isn’t the sexiest thing that’s ever happened to him.

 

Which of course is when he’s dragged off of Derek’s nice and inviting lap by a cruel hand. He’s so out of it, Derek puts him in a floatey-mind space too easily. Aiden’s never been able to sneak up on him like that, no one has.

 

“You fucking sl-”

 

Aiden doesn’t get to finish that sentence because Derek is out of the booth and DROP-KICKS Aiden’s ass. As in foot planted, solid kick to the solar-plexus, sends Aiden flying so far his back hits the bar 10 feet away and he goes DOWN. It’s over in 2 seconds and is the coolest shit Stiles has ever seen in his life. Then he’s just pissed. He presses a hand to Derek’s shoulder, and is pleased when Derek instantly calms enough to let Stiles through from where he had shoved Stiles behind him. Stiles calmly approaches Aiden and kneels down to where he is groaning in pain on the floor.

 

“While that was, admittedly, the most bad-ass thing I’ve ever seen, I don’t need Derek to handle you. Do you know how hard Cyber Crimes tried to recruit me? I’m the best damn hacker in the force besides Danny, and he’s one of my closest pals. Fuck with me again, and all of Daddy’s trust fund gets donated to one of those sex abuse charities. Count on that, asshole.”

 

Then Stiles is up and grasping Derek’s hand, leading them outside to the fresh night air. Derek calls over his shoulder to Boyd that he’ll be back later to help clean up, but Stiles hears the smile in his voice.

 

To his surprise, Derek remains a gentleman throughout the 25 minute walk back to his dingy apartment. Well, the building is dingy, but hey Stiles likes to think the neighborhood has character. Shifty character that you don’t quite trust to leave your purse around, sure, but character nonetheless. And Stiles’ place is pretty nice, the whole 3rd floor with great lighting and-

 

“A huge bed. Seriously, I splurged because I like to be comfy, ya know? I’m a comfy guy, and soft mattresses appeal to me. Hard things appeal to me too. Your hard things, specifically.”

 

Derek’s face does that quick-flash-smile thing, and Stiles is elated in victory. Then Derek’s slowly stepping in and pressing Stiles against the doorway with his hard body (walked him all the way up the stairs, what a gentleman). Stiles is already breathing heavy and can start to feel a fog of quiet envelop his brain. He’s already addicted to the silence Derek can bring to his mind, while the rest of him remains unbearably anxious with anti……cipation.

 

Pressed together thigh to chest, Stiles can feel the heat of Derek’s _very_ interested and impressive cock through their jeans. He thinks he’s drooling a bit, because he would be _so good_ for Derek to put that in his mouth. Or any hole, really.

 

But that’s not on the menu tonight, as Derek had already explained. Instead, Derek cups his face in his hands and directs Stiles into a gentle kiss. It’s soft, sweet touches of lips at first, but those already have Stiles bucking his hips in desperation. So Derek tightens his hold on Stiles’ neck and turns the kiss domineering, pulling moans and whimpers from him as their tongues brush and their cocks rub and Stiles swears he loses a little bit of himself to Derek, a stranger not hours ago.

 

Derek eventually breaks the kiss, both of them breathing heavy and a bit dazed. Stiles feels peaceful yet painfully hard, and he is once again amazed at how easily Derek can bring him to this place, or even the idea of this place. Derek seems to be equally awed, because he stays close and just kind of pets Stiles until he can open his eyes and give Derek a small, aware grin. He’s rewarded by another world-stopping smile, and he swears the hallway gets brighter when Derek does that.

 

“Call me tomorrow.”

 

“It would take Godzilla destroying the city to stop me. And even then, I’d find some way to jimmy a radio.”

 

Derek chuckles, kisses the back of Stiles’ hand because apparently he’s PERFECT, and then exits off into the sunset like the boner-inducing cowboy he is. Stiles shamelessly watches him go, feeling almost giddy as he presses the heel of his palm to his crotch and hisses, already making grand, Derek themed jerk-off plans for the rest of the night.

 

Goddamn, he has it bad. This is gonna be so good.


	2. The Misunderstanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh my God, my new boyfriend is a werewolf.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Some angst in this chapter. But also a bit of smut, so hey there's that.

After one or two orgasms, Stiles is feeling calm enough to think about sleep.  Wiping his hands of lube, he checks his phone on the nightstand.  Expecting a response from Scott to his “The love of my life just saved me from the ex.  Also, I’m about to have my sexual horizons blown away” text, he sees a cheerful and enthusiastic response from Scott but also-

 

1 text from an unknown number.

 

Stiles flounders and hastily unlocks his phone, desperately clicking and then:

 

“Read over the information I sent you and call me at 1 PM. Goodnight Stiles, and thank you for a lovely evening.”

 

Stiles squeals and punches the air in victory. Not only is this whole thing still on, but Derek’s perfect hands apparently text with perfect grammar. He’s swooning over here.

 

Checking his phone to see the time the message was sent, he sees only 5 minutes have passed since Derek messaged him. Adding Derek to his contacts under “Derek ‘McHottie’ Hale <3”, he rushes to grab his laptop and opens his email with more enthusiasm than he’s ever felt for his inbox.

 

The contract is simple and completely standard. Stiles fills in the boxes for safe-words (his is ‘Kanima’) and checks ‘yes’ for the stop-light system (Red for ‘stop’, yellow for ‘slow down’, green for ‘OK keep going’). Then he gets to the kink list.

 

Jesus, he’s up for round 3 just by reading through what Derek likes.  Marking, bruising, rope play, nipple play, handcuffs, collars, scent kink-

 

Stiles stops short.  He reads over the last entry very carefully, then goes back through the rest of Derek’s kinks.  They seem pretty standard, but if one examines closely there is a definite pattern that emerges.  Derek is apparently a possessive motherfucker who has a thing for smelling, scratching, and licking all parts of Stiles’ body.  While this in and of itself is a fantastic turn of events, Stiles’ brain is ringing with alarm bells.  The kinks, combined with the almost superhuman kick, combined with the growling, combined with the ‘Full Moon Ale’, all lead to one conclusion:

 

“Oh my God, my new boyfriend is a werewolf.”

 

Stiles groans and thanks his pattern-loving brain, because this is a super exciting deduction that requires immediate hand-dick attention. Stiles has always wanted to be fucked by a werewolf, wanted to be taken and held down by a creature of supernatural strength who would just fuck the sense right out of him.

 

Stiles scrambles with the lube and prepares himself, because it’s gonna be a long night.

 

\---------------

 

His alarm goes off at noon.  Stiles has never really been the type to spring out of bed in the morning, but he damn near does cartwheels into the shower. He sings the Finale to Les Mis as he soaps up, humming all the while as he shaves the bit of stubble he can grow before going off to make breakfast.  After a satisfying meal of pop-tarts and cereal, he goes over to the dinning room table.  He prints out the contract, then the kink list, then his places everything on the table with his phone.  He pulls up Derek’s number, then he waits.  Sitting still doesn’t come naturally to him, but he waits out the remaining 10 minutes pretty well.  Even thinking of Derek has him calm in an anticipatory way.  There is so much to think about, after all.

 

At 12:59 he dials.  Derek picks up on the 3rd ring.

 

“Right on time.  Very good.”  _Boy_ is left unsaid, but Stiles hears it anyway and a shiver goes up his spine.

 

“When properly motivated I can be extremely well-behaved.”

 

“I’ll just have to keep you interested then.”

 

“You standing there blinking would interest me.”

 

Derek chuckles softly, and Stiles is glad they’re doing this over the phone because he is making some expressive flailings to his Marvel poster on the wall.  He thinks Iron Man totally gets it.

 

“Did you read over the contract?”

 

“Filled out and signed.  I can give it to you in person whenever you want, you can put your penis- your pen on it!  And…sign it.  With your pen.”

 

Derek laughs louder at that one, and Stiles can feel Captain America grimace on his behalf but also remain encouraging.

 

“Good, I’ll put my pen to it.  And your kink list?”

 

They go over the items one by one, and SHOCKER they are amazingly compatible.  Stiles is feeling pumped about this, and little Stiles is feeling horny.  Which is of course why the next thing out of his mouth is:

 

“ We’ll put watersports as a tentative ‘maybe’ then. So, any specific werewolf kinks I should know about?”

 

He’s greeted by dead silence on the other end of the line.  Then a beep, and he gazes at his phone in disbelief as “Call Ended” flashes across the screen.

 

It’s like he’s suddenly submerged in an ice bath. It’s not subdrop, but the emotional whiplash makes the bottom of Stiles’ stomach give out. If he wasn’t sitting, he is certain he would have collapsed.  He takes a deep breath and tries to think through the situation, but he can already feel a panic attack start to approach.  He knows it’s going to be a bad one too, so he’s up and scrambling for an emergency paper bag.  He locates the neatly stacked pile and starts gasping air in and out of the bag, counting backward from 100.  He doesn’t know how many times he does this, but eventually it’s enough for him to stop shaking and he can feel himself be able to think clearly again.

 

That’s when he hears his phone ringing.

 

Slowly he makes his way back over and sees “Derek ‘McHottie’ Hale <3” illuminated on the screen.  He’s also apparently missed 7 calls from the same number. He accepts the call on autopilot, and is instantly assaulted by a cursing and angry werewolf.

 

“OH, so now you pick up.  Listen you little shit I don’t know who you think you are but I’m gonna be there in about 5 seconds to kick. Your. Ass. You and any other pathetic speciest friends you might have, I’ll tear their throats out _with my teeth_.”

 

Stiles begins panicking again.  He crumples to the floor, breathing hard into his paper bag and shuddering, trying desperately not to cry and remember how many locks he has on his door.  He fails on both accounts, and he’s so lost in his own head he doesn’t hear the other side of the line go silent.

 

“Stiles?  Stiles, shit I’m coming.  Just…keep breathing, god dammit-”

 

Stiles also doesn’t hear the line go dead again. What does catch his attention is about 5 seconds later the door is kicked in, and there’s a Henley clad werewolf in his dining room.  He screams a little (only a little, OK?) and shuffles backwards on his ass to get to the gun he’s got stashed under the table.  The bullets aren’t wolfsbane, but they’ll still hurt like a bitch. If he’s lucky they’ll even slow Derek down.

 

Derek who isn’t moving.  Derek who is currently knelt on the floor with Stiles, staring with his hands up in surrender.  Derek who looks like he’s trying to soothe a wild animal, which Stiles sort of appreciates given the fact that he is still breathing into the paper bag.  While frozen half-way reaching for his hidden gun.  He supposes he doesn’t cut the most intimidating figure.

 

Derek doesn’t look intimidating right now either. Well, he kind of always has an air of general bad-assery about him, but right now he looks to be the paradigm of remorse.  He’s gazing at Stiles like he wishes he could offer him his heart, ripped beating out of his own chest.  The level of guilt makes Stiles feel a bit better, and he’s eventually able to calm down enough to take the paper bag away.  They remain staring at each other for another minute or two, then Stiles rests his hand fully on the gun duck taped to the table and says,

 

“Please explain to me how a friendly conversation regarding kink led to you pulling a Shining on me?”

 

Derek swallows and lowers his hands, gaze dropping to the floor.  He looks supremely uncomfortable, and while normally Stiles would be sympathetic right now he gives exactly zero fucks.  He still hasn’t heard a good enough reason not to shoot until Derek backs that fine ass up and out of his goddamn apartment.

 

“My crazy ex….the one who tried to burn my family… she was a hunter.”

 

Stiles’ heart sinks.

 

“She was using me the whole time.  We were so lucky, so goddamn lucky her brother had second thoughts and told us so everyone could get out in time. They put her in jail but…the general world doesn’t know about supernatural creatures.  And in my experience, the humans who do aren’t friendly.  They freak out, they deny, they try and use you.  They don’t just casually drop the fact that they know your biggest secret into the first kink discussion.  I freaked out, I thought you were like…her.”

 

Derek looks at Stiles then, and Stiles swears to god those puppy-eyes could end the war in the Middle East.  Call him the Titanic, because his ship is sunk.

 

“I’m so sorry, Stiles.  I wouldn’t…I won’t hurt you.  I promise.”

 

Derek speaks the words so earnestly, like his soul depended on getting them right.  Stiles nods, and taps his fingers against the gun.  It’s an old habit for when he’s thinking. Finally, he speaks,

 

“Scott got bit when we were freshmen in college. Some rogue Alpha. What I assume is a different group of hunters put her down.  We kind of figured it out together, you know?  Then once your best friend is a werewolf, you start to see the other supernatural beings and the supernatural world.  Every type’s got these patterns and well, patterns are what I do.  I guessed from your kinks and stuff- I figured if you weren’t I’d just laugh it off. I was trying to make you feel comfortable, to let you know that it’s super OK and I was full steam ahead on the Werewolf Express.  What ensued afterwards was an epic failure.  Because you were a dick.”

 

At this Derek nods fervently.

 

“A huge dick.  A dick with a tragic past that does NOT make me want to hug you, for the record.”

 

Derek still looks mournful, but he manages to answer back,

 

“Are you still…interested in this huge dick?”

 

And Stiles cracks a grin at that, because Derek looks so sorry and also pained by making that innuendo.  He’s clearly trying hard here. Heh, hard.

 

“I’d say I’m more cautious than I was before. You did kick my 6-lock door down with the sole intention of ripping my throat out.  With your teeth.”

 

“No!  No I heard you having a panic attack on the phone.”

 

“And you were already on your way over because….”

 

“…. I was going to try and maim you.”

 

“Exactly.  Thank you.  Dick.”

 

Derek looks so defeated then, and Stiles feels a small shard of guilt in his gut.  Now that he has the “Tragic Back-Story”, he totally gets why Derek flipped out. Dude must have massive trust issues, especially in regards to people trying to seduce him for nefarious purposes.  No wonder he likes to be in control during sex.  Speaking of which…

 

“Stop looking like you accidentally ran over my puppy, you dramatic moping hunk.  I still want to go through with this.”

 

Stiles has never seen someone look so surprised and startled in his entire life.  It’s kind of a hilarious look on Derek, his ears somehow make it look cute. Dammit, focus Stilinski.

 

“BUT, I think we need a few dates beforehand. As much as it pains me to say this, sexy-times are officially on hold until I’m certain I’m not going to trip over any more crazy-ex-minefields.  Because that… I’ve never actually had anyone cause me to have a panic attack before.  Situations, sure, but never people.  It’s kind of freaking me out how much you affect me and we’ve _just_ had our meet-cute, so I think I need time to process all this.”

 

Derek still look startled, but he also looks hopeful and it’s a great look on him.  Stiles has yet to find a bad look, but this one is still in his top 5. Derek is looking at Stiles like he’s the 8th wonder of the world- like he just pulled a rabbit out of his ass.  Speaking of which…

 

“I think we should finish our discussion, then agree on some date times.”

 

Derek nods his head emphatically, then is up on his feet in a flash and cautiously extending his hand out to help Stiles up. Stiles takes it without hesitation, and appreciates the soft squeeze Derek gives before he ruefully lets go. Then he pulls out Stiles’ chair (“Overkill there, Hale”) and sits a respectable distance to Stiles’ right, not blocking the door.  Stiles is internally pleased by the gesture.

 

“So, can you knot?”

 

Derek blushes.  Actually blushes.  Then he clears his throat and lets out a strangled,

 

“I’ve never actually…with anyone.  Is that something you would want?”

 

Stiles grins manically, and uncaps his red sharpie marker to write ‘Hell Yes’ in the new blank space for knotting.  Derek blushes again, but Stiles catches a hint of red in his irises.  Maybe he can tease the full flash out of Derek over the course of their next few dates. And Stiles plans on teasing the hell out of Derek.  For punishment! For science!  For fun!

 

“So, any specific werewolf kinks I should know about?” He says it casually, but his heart is pounding.  He knows Derek can hear it, though the low, mournful whine Derek lets out would be a dead-giveaway.  Derek shakes his head, which is too bad ‘cause Stiles isn’t through.

 

“How do you feel about fucking me beta-shifted?”

 

Derek freezes, and Stiles hears the table creak ominously under his grip.  Stiles also hears Derek’s breathing even out in what can only be a measured effort to remain calm, and when he looks up he’s met with a look of such intense hunger that his own features slacken in want.  He knows now that he must stink of arousal, and he marvels at Derek’s control because all he gets back is an even,

 

“I would be extremely interested in fucking you beta-shifted.”

 

“O-K then, I’ll just mark that down on this here penis. Paper!  On the paper.  Right there.  ‘Definitely interested’.  Yesiree.”

 

Derek’s eyebrows smile at him, and Stiles is so far gone he doesn’t even care how he knows that. 

 

\--------------------

 

They set a date for right then and there, because yes, Derek is buying and installing a new door on Stiles’ apartment. One with at least 10 locks. Derek is in charge of going out and purchasing said door and locks, while Stiles will guard the fort and order the take-out. 

 

All in all, things were looking up. But Stiles couldn’t quite shake the feeling he was missing something, and the unfortunate thing about this feeling was that it was always right.  For now though, all he could do was wash his face, collect himself, grab the phone, and order some of the best damn Chinese food in the city. As he finished ordering, he heard Derek enter the room and place one of the sturdiest and intimidating doors ever in his now empty doorway.  He whistled.

 

“Might have gone overboard again there, Hale.”

 

“It’s Mountain Ash.  No supernatural creature is getting through this unless you open the door for them.  I also got 12 locks.”

 

“Huh.  Some people buy flowers.”  Who was he kidding, this was the most romantic shit ever.

 

Derek gave his flash-grin and set to work. He lifted up the pieces of Stiles’ first VERY heavy door that was split right in two easily, then turned around to throw them out on the street.  Stiles gaped a little at the display of strength, then remembered “Operation Drive Derek Crazy with Your Sweet Sweet Moves” was a go. So when Derek came back to find Stiles leaning against the door like a stud muffin, his expression of confusion was really a bit insulting.

 

“Hey there sailor.  Come on in, the water’s fiiiiine.”

 

“Did you hit your head while I was gone?”

 

“What?!  No, I’m being sexy you idiot!  That’s what people who go on dates do, they be…”

 

Stiles lost all train of thought as Derek dead-lifted the new door into place, his biceps bulging in his sleeves.

 

“…sexy as fuck.”

 

Derek smirked, then paused his movements before grabbing his drill for the new hinges.  Going about his construction, he stated,

 

“ You don’t have to act sexy.  You smell like sex, like want and desperation. It’s quite distracting. Not to mention your lips or your hands.  Or your eyes. Or your ass.”

 

Stiles couldn’t help it- he crouched down next to where Derek was kneeling to drill in the first bolt.  He needed to be in his space, didn’t want to miss a single bit of praise that came from his sexy handywolf.  He wordlessly passed Derek bolt after bolt, and they worked as a team while Derek spoke calm praise that washed over Stiles, covering him in a warm blanket of content arousal.

 

“Your ass is so pert, I bet it will have such a bounce to it when I spank you.” Derek had mused on the 3rd bolt, and Stiles had blushed and nodded.

 

“Your hands are never still.  I bet I could make you still.  Then I’d make you squirm.”  Stiles had shuddered and passed Derek the 8th bolt.

 

“Last one.  I wonder how you’ll smell in beta-form.  I can’t imagine you smelling any better, but everything is so much…more when you’re shifted.  I’m sure I’ll leave bruises.”  Stiles moaned at that one and pressed his cheek to the back of Derek’s shoulder, rubbing his face against the soft cotton of Derek’s shirt and inhaling his scent. It was like the musk of eau de Derek got him high or something, he swears he feels floaty afterwards. Derek growled, then turned his neck and said,

 

“Not now.  Food is coming, and we have locks to set up.  Besides, it’s your turn.”

 

So Stiles is forced to tell Derek all the ways he jerked-off last night.  Thinking about Derek.  Paying the delivery guy from behind a closed door (with 4 locks on it) because you have a boner is a new low for Stiles.  They break for some Kung-Pow deliciousness, then right back to work.  Derek seems to time the locks perfectly, because as he’s installing the final one as Stiles is finishing off his final story.

 

“I kept pumping my fingers in, didn’t stop. Was no point, I knew I wasn’t done.  Just lazily stroked my cock and thought of you.  This final time was different though.  I thought about you, yeah but specifically…”  Stiles trails off here, and Derek just quirks his eyebrow.

 

“Your knot.  If you had one.  I thought about you fucking me and shoving it in so it’s pressed in all the right places. I thought about being so full of your cum it leaked out and everywhere, thought about it dripping down my thighs.  I thought- God, I thought about it getting me wet like-”

 

Stiles whispers this next part,

 

“ _Like a girl._ There…in my hole.”

 

Derek puts the bolt clean through the door.

 

“I came really hard that last time. Which is weird, because hello that’s not a fantasy I’ve had before but hey, apparently my brain and dick work in mysterious ways when it comes to you.”

 

Derek is breathing heavily and facing the door. When he does turn around to face Stiles, Stiles knows right away.  It is fucking on.

 

Except instead taking Stiles to bed and divesting him of any remaining virtue, Derek seems to shake himself out of whatever trance he was in.  Then he packs up his drill and toolbox, opens what has to be the most secure door Stiles has ever had, and steps out into the hallway.  Stiles moves into the doorway to say goodbye, and Derek grabs him by the wrist and yanks him to his body.

 

Stiles honestly thought before this moment that the word “ravished” was overused in cheap harlequin romance novels. But that was before a slightly sweaty Derek Hale took him in his arms and swept him up in a passionate, feverish kiss.  Stiles could barely keep up with the tongue pressing insistently upon his own, the occasional teeth that nipped at his lower lip, and the steel-like arm that encircled his waist, pressing his hard and aching cock against Derek’s own. He was vaguely aware of the whimpering he was making, but honestly his sexual world was being changed forever so he was allowed a bit of moaning.

 

Derek wrenched himself away after a bit, snarling as he did so.  Then he leaned in, murmured,

 

“Call me tomorrow, I know where I’m bringing you for our next date.” 

 

Then he strode off down the hallway like the sexually-frustrating cowboy he was.  Except that Stiles had imposed the no sexy-times rule, which was important and he was sticking to. 

 

For… science or some shit.  Goddamit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr!
> 
> http://versus21.tumblr.com/
> 
> Also I'm on vacation this week but I will do my level best to update as soon as I can! In the meantime, as always I am open to ideas and suggestions!


	3. Date Night #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you think this looks like a blatant invitation, that’s because it is.”
> 
> OR
> 
> Scott and Stiles discuss things, then Stiles and Derek have their first date night!

They fall asleep texting each other, something Stiles can’t quite bring himself to regret as his alarm blares him out of a sexy dream full of wandering hands and red eyes.  He doesn’t even have the brainpower to curse his situation; he just zombie-walks his way into the shower.  He goes through the usual morning motions and absently checks his phone when he gets back to his bed.  His day instantly looks better when he sees a new message from Derek on his phone.  It reads:

 

D:  Are you free tonight?

 

Stiles grins and types back:

 

S:  I think I can pencil you in.  What’d you have in mind?

 

D: Can you meet me at the bar at 7?

 

S:  Would the sight of you flexing make me to drool?

 

D:  I will see you at 7 sharp then.

 

S:  You are penised in.

 

S:  *PENCILED.  You are penciled in.

 

D:  Show me some options for what you are wearing today.

 

Stiles likes where this is going.  Stiles likes a lot.  So he lays out 3 pairs of pants and 2 shirt options. He sends the picture and waits. He doesn’t have to wait long.

 

D:  The charcoal pants with the light blue collared shirt.

 

Stiles gets ready in record time and snaps a picture in the mirror.  The response he gets has him tingling all the way to work:

 

D:  Good boy.

 

\--------------------------

 

Scott is all over Stiles the moment they have a moment to themselves.  Which turns out to not be until after lunch- they caught a string of burglaries that no one else wanted to take.  It was recommended by one of the higher-ups that the new “Wiz Kids” take it- Stiles would bet his left nut that it was Harris.  Stiles thinks it’ll take them 2 days- with Scott’s nose and his penchant for patterns, this is no great challenge.  Still, it will take work, and they don’t have a break for lunch until later.  After eating leftovers Scott brought from his and Alison’s home BBQ on Saturday, Scott leans forward and punches Stiles lightly in the arms about 20 times in rapid succession.

 

“Telllllllll meeeeeeee.”

 

“JEEZ get your paws off me I’m spilling I’m spilling!”

 

Scott is predictably alarmed when he finds out Derek is a werewolf, let alone another Alpha.  He’s also furious when he hears about the panic-attack incident.

 

“Stiles, remember that promise you had me make after Aiden?”

 

“This is NOTHING like him-“

 

“I, Scott McCall, promise to kidnap Stiles and force him to watch season after season of “Say Yes To The Dress” until he remembers that he deserves better.”

 

“Scott, would you just listen to what happens next?”

 

Scott is thoughtful after Stiles finishes his story. Stiles knows he’s battling between his constant desire to see the good in people and his need to protect his best friend.  In the end, Scott claims his right to reserve judgment. 

 

“Let me know how the date goes.  Then we’ll see.”

 

“You want to know everything?  Cause…”

 

“I thought you swore a vow of celibacy!”

 

“I did!  I’m just…planning on teasing him a bit.  Flashing the goods, so to speak.  Minus the actual flashing.  Speaking of which, is there anything Alison does that gets your wolf all hot and bothered?”

 

Scott looks like he’s swallowed a sour lemon drop. Stiles just waits patiently until Scott stops making gagging noises and thinks about the question.

 

“Well, you don’t have boobs, so this is kind of tough. Ummmmm oh!  Scenting!”

 

“….That thing you do where you sniff her neck and zone out?”

 

“Yeah!  It just makes my wolf calm, but like really excited at the same time? It’s the closest I feel to drunk most of the time, unless I can find of that wolfsbane beer. Other than that… man this is tough with no boobs.”

 

Stiles clucks his tongue and thinks this information over.  He’s pretty sure he just had a similar reaction to smelling Derek, but that makes no sense. He doesn’t have a monthly fur problem.  So he files that information under the “Mystery of Derek Hale” folder and goes back to enjoying the pulled pork in front of him.

 

He gives Scott the last butter biscuit because he’s not above actually buttering someone up to get what he wants, in this case Scott’s blessing of Derek.  Scott tells Stiles around a mouthful of flakey goodness,

 

“We’re still seeing.  But good to know you’re biscuit-serious about this guy.”

 

Stiles grins and fiddles with the sleeves of his shirt.

 

\--------------------

 

Stiles arrives at 6:55 PM exactly, walking into the bar with a much calmer demeanor than his first entrance.  His heart is still pounding, though this time for a different reason.  Derek spots him instantly from his perch by the bar, and Holy Cheeseballs Batman does he look good. Better than good, he looks like a walking romance novel cover.  If this was a cartoon, Stiles’ heart would have palpitated wildly from his chest; his eyes would have popped out from his head, and his tongue would have lolled onto the floor. 

 

Derek is in cut black pants that clearly do wonderful things for his ass, even while sitting.  His shirt is a simple long-sleeved white number, but the fabric looks soft.  More importantly, Stiles can make out nearly every muscle on Derek’s torso if he squints. Good Lord, it’s enough to make a grown man cry.

 

Derek is now leaning back on the bar, allowing Stiles to ogle his body.  Seriously, he should just arrest himself, he’s clearly a menace to this man. But Derek just smirks and allows his hand to drift casually to his hip, loosely fingering his thick black belt. The same black belt that will be starring in several of Stiles fantasies now. 

 

Oh God, abort thought process.  Derek is coming over!

 

“Hello again, Stiles.  Right on time I see.”

 

“Have you ever used that belt on someone before?”

 

Nailed it, Stilinski. 

 

Derek inhales and exhales very slowly through his nostrils, then steps right up into Stiles’ personal bubble.  He firmly grasps the back of Stiles’ neck once more, and again Stiles feels a chain reaction go off in his body: his mind clears, his spine goes limp, and his dick twitches with interest.  He hums in appreciation, and Derek presses a firm but gentle kiss on his lips.  It sends a scattering of electricity throughout Stiles’ entire body, and he finds himself clutching at the “White Shirt of Wet Dreams” by the time Derek pulls away.

 

“No, I haven’t.  But maybe I will, if you behave.”

 

“Derek, I’ll-”

 

“Not…here.  I can’t do what I want to you here.”

 

Stiles blinks and feels the world come back into focus. He just made an extremely public display of affection in a semi-crowded bar, and although no one seems to be paying them any mind (besides the buxom blonde from last night, who is- is that a video camera?) he still flushes.  He’s never been one for any kind of PDA- he’s a snuggly guy, sure. But he usually insists on nothing past handholding, and even that is pushing it.  This though, this feels right.  He likes the feeling of Derek’s hand on the back of his neck, the casual display of dominance that it is.  He finds that he _wants_ people to know- not necessarily to make them jealous, but to make them understand the sway Derek holds over him with so simple a caress.

 

Something wonderfully suspicious is definitely going on.  Stiles still hasn’t ruled out succubi, but hey- he’ll enjoy the ride for now.  Clearing his throat as Derek steps away, Stiles pretends Derek can’t hear his heart rate beating like a drummer on Red Bull and asks,

 

“So, where are we headed to this fine night? Please tell me this date does not involve manual labor.  Not that I don’t mind a bit of hard work, I just don’t think my libido can take watching you weld something.”

 

Derek quirks an amused brow, and shakes his head.

 

“Hopefully different sparks will fly tonight.”

 

“WOW.  You’re a real softie beneath that leather belt, aren’t you Hale.”

 

“Stop talking about my belt, Stilinski.”

 

They continue with their playful banter as Derek leads him to parts unknown in the city.  Stiles is delighted that they can so easily snipe at each other with no real malice, giving their flirting a bit of an edge.  It’s so thoroughly distracting that he doesn’t realize they’ve arrived at their destination until Derek presses a gentle, heavy hand on his shoulder.

 

The sign reads “Finstock’s Fun Time Arcade”.

 

Stiles thinks he might explode with joy.

 

“I’ve been meaning to go here for weeks! I love arcades, dude this is awesome!”

 

Derek gives his quick-smile, obviously hugely pleased with Stiles’ reaction.

 

“The owner’s a bit of a nut, but the place has all the great old-school games with the best modern ones as well.  Besides, the snack bar has surprisingly amazing curly fries.”

 

Stiles shrieks with delight and drags Derek through the doors.

 

The next few hours pass by in a blur of bright lights and expelled tickets.  Stiles is delighted to find that not only is Derek competitive, but he’s not above shameless flirting to win.  Stiles nearly throws a skee-ball through a window when Derek faux-stretches, yawning and lifting his arms to show off abs Stiles is dying to press his lips to. Stiles maintains Derek wins their 45 minute tournament only because of his physique and sneaky werewolf powers. Derek smirks and denies nothing. But he does nibble on Stiles’ ear while Stiles plays Pac-Man, causing Stiles to embarrassingly hump the front of the machine and, coincidentally, the pink ghost’s face.

 

It’s not his finest moment.

 

When they do work together on games, they do so almost perfectly in sync (minus the moments Stiles gets caught drooling over Derek bracing a fake shot-gun on his shoulder).  They easily pass the high score on multiple shooting games, including Dark Escape, where Derek actually growls at a pixilated zombie for giving Stiles a fright. 

 

Stiles only swoons a little.  He can’t do a full swoon yet- he has devious schemes.

 

Derek is adorably confused when Stiles slips $10 into the most remote photo booth in the joint, setting their buckets of tickets aside.  His ears even do the thing where they raise on his head, reminding Stiles of a stubbly puppy. He grins and slides behind the curtain, and Derek clamors in after him.  Stiles just bought them 10 rounds of photos on the machine, and he intends to make every shot count.

 

Their first 2 rounds are adorable.  They do the typical poses- smiles, cheesy smiles, Charlie’s Angels pose, tongues stuck out, bunny ears, etc.  After they finish the 2nd photo strip that Stiles will be able to show their children, he initiates Plan Seduce-And-Let-Loose-The-Alpha.

 

He pushes himself as far into the corner of the booth as possible, opening his legs as wide as he can so anything hot and bothered could just slip right between them.  Then he meets Derek’s eyes, licks his lips, and pulls the collar of his shirt down whilst tilting his head back, baring his neck and collarbone to the wolf.

 

“If you think this looks like a blatant invitation, that’s because it is.”

 

Derek goes eerily silent and still, and Stiles feels him press his hard body to his own before he hears it.  Then he’s got a VERY happy lap full of horny werewolf, and he forgets words for a while. 

 

Because Stiles could seriously be into this scenting thing.  It involves Derek rubbing himself deliciously all over Stiles’ body, their chests pressed together and their shirts pulling at Stiles’ nipples a bit too much too good. Then there’s Derek’s wandering hands, which have taken Stiles’ legs and rearranged them so he’s able to be pressed _in and up_ by Derek’s impressive and hard cock, which rubs against his own and causes Stiles to moan loudly while his hands clench and spasm over the hard planes of Derek’s back and fist roughly at his hair.  He hears his shoes squeaking for purchase, and every time he thinks he’s gained ground to thrust back Derek just shoves him effortlessly into a position where he’s in complete control again.  It’s mind-bendingly hot and fist-poundingly frustrating, and Stiles thinks he might come in his pants.

 

Hell, it’s so hot he might forget math permanently.

 

Perhaps what feels best though is the constant scratch-sniff-bite-kiss-lick-repeat routine Derek is doing to his neck. It’s sending him soaring, both in arousal and ecstasy, because he’s being _marked_ by Derek Hale, covered in his scent and God he wants it, wants everyone to know who his Alpha is.

 

“Tell me you’re mine, sweetheart.”  Derek rasps against his ear, sucking a mark behind it and causing Stiles’ eyes to roll back in his head.  His toes actually curl, and his feet try even harder to find purchase.  Derek growls at the increased slip-slide his shoes make on the bench and picks him up off the wall only to slam him back roughly, causing the booth to shake. Stiles groans even louder, spreads his legs wider and stares wantingly at Derek as the camera flashes.

 

“Tell.  Me.”  Derek fury-whispers, not in anger but in desperation.  His hips are pumping harder against Stiles’, who went limp at the last body slam.  Why would Stiles fight it, when he could just feel and let go for Derek?

 

“Yours, Alpha.”  Stiles doesn’t mean to add the last bit, it slips out. Derek goes nuts when he says it though, wraps his arm around Stiles’ waist and hitches his leg up around his hips. He grinds forward in long, hard, and slow motions, lets his fingers slip down over the covered material of Stiles’ ass to rest on his hole, and bites hard on Stiles’ neck after he murmurs,

 

“ _Good boy_.”

 

Stiles sees the camera flash behind his closed eyelids as he comes in his pants, scream muffled by Derek’s mouth and hole fluttering, desperate for Derek’s fingers.  He swears he feels something else happen back there, but he really doesn’t have the brainpower to ponder on anything but remembering how to breathe and inhaling Derek’s musk, which he swears has gotten stronger and more potent since last time.  Derek is shuddering above him and looking down with intense eyes, inhaling deep and grasping Stiles tight.  He looks like he’s about to come too, when-

 

He stiffens.  He leans in close and smells Stiles a bit closer, then lets out the filthiest groan Stiles has ever heard.  Then Stiles is face-down ass-up (that’s the way he’d like to fuck), and before he can process what actually just happened he feels Derek lean in close to his covered hole and just- _inhale_. Stiles moans anew, and despite how happy it was moments ago his dick makes a painful effort to get hard again. Derek just grips him tighter by his hips and keeps breathing him in, whispering

 

“Oh fuck, Stiles, so perfect for me. So good, so perfect.”

 

The camera flashes again, for the last time. It snaps Derek out of whatever too-hot-to-handle thoughts he might be having, because he pulls Stiles into his lap and cradles him with gentle touches and kisses until Stiles has composed himself enough to leave the booth.  They head over to the bathroom, which is luckily nearby. Before he goes in, Derek touches his arm and says,

 

“Bring your underwear to me.”

 

Stiles nods obediently, still too blissed out from his orgasm to truly appreciate the hotness of that statement (he’s sure he will later).  He shucks his soiled briefs in the Mens room and places them in Derek’s hands moments later, dopey-eyed and satisfied.  Derek puts them in his back pocket and places a warm hand on Stiles’ back, leading him to the promised curly fries.

 

Even without the admittedly fan-fucking-tastic fries, which Stiles attractively crams in his mouth, it’s still the best date he’s ever been on.  They pick out a ridiculously huge tennis ball as their meager prize, and Derek lets Stiles have it in exchange for waiting to look at his copy of the pictures tomorrow. During his lunch break. When Derek will call him. Dear Lord.

 

Derek kisses him goodnight at the door, with plans already made for another date tomorrow night.  Stiles falls asleep with a smile on his lips.  He dreams of red eyes and sharp nails that scratch down his sides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr!
> 
> http://versus21.tumblr.com/
> 
> As always, I'm open to suggestions! Thank you all so much already for your support of this story.


	4. The Phone Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek knew something was different the second he smelled him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay- this chapter is longer than the others. Hopefully, some questions people have had will be cleared up!

Derek knew something was different the second he smelled him.

 

True, everyone’s smell has a different level of appeal to him and his wolf. Boyd, under the strong moss scent he emits, has surprisingly sweet undertones to his musk. Erica, on the other hand, smells like Candy Rockets went off over fireworks, with a faint lingering trace of burnt marshmallow. Their smells compliment each other beautifully, and why shouldn’t they? They are mates, after all.

 

Which brings him back to Stiles.

 

Stiles, who literally (yes, he is using that term correctly) was dumped into his life, all gangly limbs and strong hands, reeking of nerves and excitement with a hardened edge of cleverness.

 

Until he saw Derek.

 

Then Derek’s senses were assaulted with a smell of _want_ so potent he popped his claws on his hand hidden by the table.

 

Stiles smells like home. He smells of excitement, the bubbles in your soda, bark that’s been freshly peeled from a pine tree. He smells like mate, and it makes Derek want so badly he physically _aches_.

 

Boyd had known instantly, of course. Derek is understandably wary of strangers, and he hates it when people interrupt his “brooding time” at the bar, as Erica calls it. But his wolf had been drooling the second Stiles had entered the bar, and it had been purring the entire time Stiles had been pressed to his side in the booth.

 

His wolf is so whipped, it’s disgusting. No wonder Erica makes fun of him.

 

Then Stiles and he had gotten to talking, which is shocking in and of itself. Derek can barely stand talking to most people, relying on his looks to bring in the tips. But he could listen to Stiles and his looping, roller coaster story arcs for hours. Stiles talks with his whole body- hands, shoulders, hips- and Derek is mesmerized by the movements in front of him. Stiles has also gotten Derek to smile and chuckle more in the last few days than he has in the past year. Stiles makes him feel young, excited and hopeful in a way he never has been.

 

Protecting him from his jerk of an ex had also filled Derek with such a primal sense of satisfaction. He only wishes he had broken ribs, because he was just finding out how goddamn _responsive_ Stiles was when he was pulled from his lap. But Stiles had ended up handling it expertly, making him proud to hold his hand and kiss him senseless later that evening. While he was drawing up the contracts later that night, Derek marveled at how eagerly and shamelessly Stiles enjoyed his dominance.

 

Which, of course, he almost ruined forever.

 

He couldn’t help it. Self-doubt was a way of life for him now, and though Stiles had smelled of ‘mate’, Derek hadn’t known it at the time. All he knew was that there was this wonderful person who seemed perfect for him and his lonely, protected life. It was a repeat of Kate in many ways, so when Stiles had casually dropped the fact that he knew about werewolves, Derek had hung up instantly in a cold sweat.

 

Then he went to his anchor- anger.

 

He had seen red, charging out of his apartment to Stiles, hitting re-dial after re-dial until Stiles finally picked up. He didn’t exactly remember the threat he had issued, but the resulting whimper and ‘thud’ on the other line felt like a sucker-punch to the gut. Reality sharpened through the fog of anger, and he recognized the sounds of a serious panic attack through the phone. He also couldn’t hear any other heartbeats through the ear piece, further confirming his realization that Stiles was not surrounded by a bunch of his hunter friends, laughing at the freak werewolf.

 

He doesn’t think he’s ever run faster. He also didn’t think when he kicks the door down, just knew he needed to get inside and comfort Stiles. Stiles, who had flinched from him and recoiled in fear, his beautiful smell turning to ash in Derek’s mouth. Brave, wonderful Stiles, who grabbed for a hidden gun (no wolfsbane bullets) in the middle of a panic attack. Derek had felt his heart sink, and his wolf whined- out loud- as he saw Stiles close himself off from him in fear and anger. Derek hated the sight, wanted his open, free boy back. So he did what he never does around his sexual partners- he talks about Kate and the hunters. It’s still awful to talk about, the guilt still feels like sand being rubbed onto his skin. But his words slowed Stiles’ heart, though his hand remained on the gun.

 

Then, miracle of miracles, Stiles still wanted him. Not just their physical attraction, which is the strongest Derek has ever felt, but all of Derek. Derek, who almost got his family killed. Derek, whose dry sarcasm drives most people away.

 

Stiles could have asked for the moon and Derek would have snatched it out of the sky.

 

Instead Stiles shared a bit of his past with Derek, and they had agreed to cautiously move on. Derek still isn’t quite sure what happened there. All he knows is his eyes flashed when Stiles suggested knotting and fucking beta-shifted, and his wolf was howling in anticipation. He’s almost grateful that they agreed to take it slow, because if they hadn’t Derek is sure that he would have opened Stiles up roughly before forcing his tight hole to take his knot. As it is, he managed to keep it together long enough to get outside and breathe in some fresh air while getting the new door and locks.

 

Then their first official date which had been just so…easy. Derek hadn’t even meant to play with Stiles, and he normally doesn’t even like talking to his partners (besides to check in). But after the day they had experienced, he had wanted Stiles to know exactly what he had in mind for him. He outlined some of his present fantasies, then listened torturously to Stiles talk about his until-

“I thought- God, I thought about it getting me wet like- _like a girl._ There…in my hole.”

Derek straight up lost it. He felt the bolt go through the wall, but his mind was otherwise preoccupied. Because that sounded like something a male Omega werewolf experiences when they’re aroused, and while Derek has fucked one or two of those before, the thought of his Stiles getting wet for him-

 

He has to stop himself. He manages to get away with another searing kiss, but he knows things are spinning rapidly out of control. His attraction to Stiles is getting stronger, but so is his wolf- it wants to feed Stiles, wants to keep him safe and happy while strung out on his cock. The human side of him agrees with that sentiment as well.

Seeing Stiles for their first official date night had also been thrilling, sexy and thoroughly enjoyable. Stiles went pliant so easy in his arms, and Derek was already formulating plans with his belt. With all the belts, really.

Making Stiles’ face light up when he had seen the arcade sent another shiver of joy through him. And that’s what Stiles brought to him- such wild, reckless joy, the type he hadn’t felt since he first experienced the rush of the forest, running through the trees with his family under the call of the moon. He feels himself let go of some of his anger and sadness around Stiles, feels himself have fun and flirt with the amazing man beside him. He also is pleased that Stiles is not only competitive, but he cheats as well. During a particularly rough game of “Whack-A-Mole”, Derek breaks a mole when Stiles rubs his hip “accidentally” against Derek’s crotch.

He gets Stiles back at Pac-Man, and even through the scent of sticky fingers and old coins Stiles smells like sex.

Really, he should be admired for the restraint he shows. Which is, of course, is proven to be a false statement when Stiles effortlessly makes him lose it in the photo booth. Derek doesn’t know how Stiles knew that he’d been itching to combine their scents together, but Derek would like to kiss whoever put the idea in his head. He loses himself in the wolf, in the savoring of Stiles’ submission to him. He makes the sweetest moans, and squirms just enough that Derek gets to slam him down and make him still.

Then his boy comes, falls apart in his arms and Derek- Derek has never smelled anything sweeter.

Until about 5 seconds later, when another new and unexpected scent hits the air.

What Derek remembers after that is burying his face in Stiles’ clothed ass, murmuring how perfect his mate was to him. That _smell_ though- it was sweet but damp, sweat and thunder. It was the most incredible thing Derek had ever scented, and he takes a moment to thank God that the camera snapped him out of his almost-rut, because he does not need to be arrested for public indecency. Instead he was able to gain control once again, tending to his mate before taking the underwear as a souvenir. The night had ended as it began- crackling with sexual tension and promises of what was to come.

Now Derek sits alone in his office above the bar, fingering the soiled underwear while scowling. They’re cherry red briefs, and while they should look ridiculous Derek just thinks they’re obscene. He traces the elastic at the top and tries to imagine the warmth of Stiles’ skin on them, how they would look clinging to his slim hips.

Then he flips them over and dials, punching the numbers in wearily. There’s no putting this off. The phone rings twice, before a smooth voice answers,

“Hey, twin. Long time no ring.”

“Hello, Laura. I found him.”

“….Waldo? Good, I’ll call off the manhunt.”

“No. My mate.”

There’s silence on the other line, and Derek can feel his twin figuring out how to ask, so he beats her to the punch.

“It’s not like Kate. I have proof this time.”

“Go on.”

“He’s not a wolf, but he knows about us. He scents me without realizing it, gets a little scent-high when he does it.”

“OK ew. Derek, just because the guy likes rubbing up on you does not a mate make.”

Derek sighs, and braces himself.

“He got wet for me. I made him cum in his pants, and when he gave me the underwear the back was soaked in slick.”

It’s a testament to how serious the situation is that Laura only fake barfs once.

“Thanks for that mental image Derek, really.”

“There’s no other explanation, is there?”

Laura sighs now, and Derek can feel a lecture coming. The thing is, he wants one, because Laura is one of the few rocks in his life. He needs her reassurance that this is OK.

“It’s OK, Derek. It’s great in fact. You found your mate, I don’t have to tell you how rare that is. I’m so- I’m so happy for you. I’ve always wanted you to be happy, and now you’ll just have to be, whether you like it or not.”

Derek grins a little at her reference to his self-hating tendencies. She knows him well. He also tactfully avoids mentioning the way her voice shook through those last few sentences. Then-

“What does he have to say about it? Happy as a clam, I’m sure?”

“I uh, I haven’t told him. Yet. I have a phone call with him in a few minutes, I was going to tell him then.”

There’s a pause, before,

“Derek Hale you are such a fucking idiot. Honestly, how are we even related? Did you hit your head while I was gone? Is that what’s going on here?”

“I didn’t know until recently!”

“How recently?!?”

“…Since I made him come in his pants.”

“JESUS-” Derek holds the phone away from his ear as he faintly hears more fake gagging, cursing, and questioning of his sanity. When he tunes back in, he gets,

“ Did I steal all the smart genes in the womb? Why didn’t you tell him immediately?! Also, what are you still talking to me for? You’ve got a future relationship to not fuck-up, which you are currently fucking-up royally.”

“Your support in these trying times means everything.”

“Ooooo sarcasm, good one Der. Why don’t you go brush your teeth with wolfsbane, then call your man. You have to tell him.”

Derek sighs again. “I know. I know I do. But _…” I’m afraid he won’t want me. Who would want me?_

Laura groans, and Derek patiently waits for her to stop banging her head on the table. When she speaks, the soft undertone in her voice cuts at him.

“He’s going to love you, Der. You’ve just got to give him the chance to.”

Derek swallows around the lump in his throat, so utterly grateful to hear those words yet somehow still terrified of their meaning. Laura’s right though (goddamit); he does need to suck it up and try. Stiles would be great for him even if he didn’t smell like sex and Cinnabun. Maybe that’s what’s scaring him so much- that he’d be willing to take a chance on Stiles, no matter what the circumstances. He knows Stiles is attracted to him, but he also knows it’s more than that. Stiles has started to bond with him, imprinting on Derek with no reservations. It’s exactly like falling in love, but as the True Mate of an Alpha there are also some physical changes that occur. While Derek is worried about breaking all of this to Stiles, he’s also secretly relieved he has concrete proof that Stiles could want this too.

“Thank you, Laura. For everything. I think I need to call my man now.”

“Love you too, 2 minutes.”

She hangs up cackling, and Derek glares at the phone. He was born 2 minutes younger than her, a fact that has haunted him throughout his life. Being the younger twin sucks.

Taking a several deep breaths, Derek selects the contact “Stiles S.” and hits dial. The voice picking up on the other end makes him ache in a good way, like stretching your muscles after a hard work-out. This is his mate, and he belongs here with Derek. He’ll find a way.

\---------------------

Stiles picks up the call on the first ring, too excited to even try to play it cool.

“I have never looked forward to a lunch more in my life. People at the office think I’m high on something, I keep grinning like a maniac.”

“We need to talk.”

Stiles’ heart sinks. He swallows roughly, then clears his throat.

“We are talking, Mr. Observant.”

“About us.”

Well shit. Stiles has heard this song and dance before, but he didn’t expect to hear it from Derek so soon. He can already feel the creepings of the devastation that lies in store for him. Ben & Jerry’s does not have enough pints in the world for him, this one is going to SUCK.

“Save me the speech, Derek. No hard feelings, I know my energy can be a lot to handle for most people. You probably have other models you want to get freaky with, I can bow out gracefully. Thanks for the date, you can keep the underwear.”

Stiles hangs up before he can hear Derek politely tell him goodbye, scoops up the pictures that he is now grateful he never looked at, and throws them in the trash. He considers lighting it on fire, but that seems a bit melodramatic. Maybe later tonight, when he’s definitely going to be drunk.

He leaves his apartment, and he refuses to be sad. That’s for later tonight. He can hold it together with his anger for now, and thanks to his ADHD brain he has no doubt he will be distracted soon enough.

Except 3 hours later when he’s back at work, he bursts into tears when Scott shows him a puppy vine. It’s easily the third worst thing to happen to him today (the second being they were out of his favorite rum at the liquor store). Scott promptly hauls his ass into the bathroom, puts the cleaning sign up and spends the next 30 minutes alternating between hugging him and threatening more and more outlandish revenge plots against Derek.

“Sharks, Stiles. With lasers on their heads. It’ll be great, I’m telling you.”

“I just- I don’t understand what happened, Scott.”

Scott makes a sympathetic sound, because it’s the first time Stiles has been able to talk about it.

“It- it was going so perfectly. He’s literally perfect, and I messed it up somehow. And now I never get to see his stupid surly face again, or hear his dry humor, or make innuendos that I know he thought were funny.”

“Your innuendos are hilarious.”

Stiles loves Scott so much, seriously.

“Hey, why don’t we go away this weekend? There’s that paintball place outside of town, shooting stuff always makes you feel better! I’ll even let you be Alison’s partner.”

Stiles nods, his eyes finally not watering at every sentence Scott says. There’s a chance he might actually win if Alison’s on his team.

“Just give it time, Stiles. You’ll forget what his stupid face even looks like.”

\---------------------

Derek’s stupid face is waiting for him at his apartment when he gets home. Stiles had hoped that after 18 ignored missed calls, he would get the hint. He’s also only mildly embarrassed by the amount of alcohol and ice cream he is carrying, looking wearily at Derek and saying,

“Glad to see the door works.”

“You are _such_ an asshole.”

Stiles feels his mouth gaping, but in his defense that is the last thing he expected to hear. Derek does look pissed, but he also looks vulnerable and disheveled. Like everything else, it’s an unfairly good look on him and Stiles hates how much he wants to hug Derek until the bad thoughts go away.

“Wha- you- YOU BROKE UP WITH ME! How am I the asshole?!?”

But then Stiles is being lifted up and shoved against the wall. He hates how his legs wrap around Derek’s waist and he drops his Ben & Jerry’s Half-Baked pints like they mean nothing to him. He hates the way Derek is clinging to him, pressing him into the wall and holding him there like he’s afraid Stiles will leave. He hates how much he loves the roughness of it all, how they’re biting as much as they are kissing. He hates how Derek’s eyes flash red after Stiles bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, he hates how much he loves the harsh pulls Derek is giving his hair.

He hates it most when Derek stops, both of them panting and hard in his hallway. Derek buries his face in Stiles’ neck and inhales, right over the hickies he left that Stiles spent minutes covering up in the bathroom. He’s shaking and whining, and Stiles is more concerned with this than the fact that he thinks something weird is going on in his pants again. He ignores it (maybe he’s sweating there more than usual) and makes soothing noises to Derek, rubbing his hands up and down his amazingly defined back.

“Hey, hey big guy. I’m right here, you got me pinned to the wall. Shh shh, I’m right here.”

Eventually Derek calms down enough to glare at Stiles again, then says,

“We need to talk. And no, I’m not breaking up with you. I’m trying to do the opposite.”

Oh. Ooooh.

“Oooooooooooooooh.”

“Yeah, no shit. Can we please go inside and have that talk now?”

Stiles nods dumbly, and gets them into his apartment with minimal stumbling. Derek takes the bag with the alcohol and pointedly places it on top of the fridge, where Stiles can’t reach for now. Dammit, he’ll have to settle for Chocolate Fudge Brownie. He magnanimously gets Derek a spoon too.

They eat a few bites in silence, sitting on the couch in the living room. Then Derek speaks:

“Do you know what a male Omega werewolf does?”

Stiles shakes his head no, digging out a brownie chunk from the pint.

“When aroused, they self-lubricate out of their assholes to assist penetration.”

Stiles spits the brownie across the couch. Derek looks less than impressed, but fuck him, this is brand new information!

“You got wet when I made you come in your pants in the photo booth. I smelled and saw it on your underwear. Then you got wet again in the hallway, I can still smell it. You also have scent-marked me by the door, and we both seem sensitive to each other’s moods-in person, at least. Since you’re not a werewolf, there’s only one explanation for that.”

“…… You’ve got me on pins and needles here, Derek.”

“You’re my mate. My true mate, and we have started to bond. Your body is responding in kind, and should we continue our relationship, the bond will cement and we’ll be linked together for the rest of our lives.”

Derek hunts for brownie bits then while Stiles checks his butt, yelps when there is indeed some liquid coming out there, and proceeds to clearly have an internal monologue with himself. A slightly panicked monologue, with minimal flailing in Derek’s direction. When he calms down enough to stop making motions at his Wonder Woman poster, he speaks again, saying,

“For the record, ‘We need to talk’ is the worst way EVER to approach that little speech.”

“I’m aware of that now, thank you.”

“Well well well, look who’s the sassy Alpha.”

“Do you still want me?”

Stiles’ heart breaks a little again, this time by seeing how clearly scared Derek is, even though he’s putting on a very brave front while polishing off the last of the ice cream (bastard). Stiles doesn’t even have to think, but he does wait until Derek puts down his spoon and looks at him.

“Yes, I still want you. All of you, any way I can get it. But no more phone calls- from now on anything even remotely serious is talked about in person, this is ridiculous.”

Derek gives him a real smile, the biggest one Stiles has seen yet, and oh hot damn this is his jam. The world just got a little more color in it, Stiles is absolutely positive. Derek leans forward and kisses him so soft and sweet, hand caressing his jaw in a possessive move that makes Stiles sigh with bliss. Then his ass starts to leak again, and he has to pull away for a bit.

“Seriously, what do I do about this leaking-butt situation? Because this one will take time to get used to.”

Derek grins and pulls Stiles into his lap, nudging Stiles’ hole through his work pants and oh oh oh shit, Stiles moans and grasps Derek’s shoulders tightly. God, he’s never been that sensitive down there, he’s groaning and humping the air as Derek massages his ass. Derek is smirking below him, and Stiles would hate his smug face if he didn’t feel like he was going to come any second from the heavy petting going on.

“It’ll only happen around me, sweetheart, so don’t worry about that for now. How about we try something to take your mind off of it?”

Stiles agrees, nodding while he basically rubs himself off all over Derek’s hard body. Derek doesn’t seem to mind, just lets Stiles get floaty off his scent and hands, which are still massaging and squeezing.

“I need you to get undressed, Stiles. Can you do that for me?”

More nodding, and God Stiles loves how his mind can go completely blank for Derek. He just has to focus on fumbling out of his shirt first, then pants and socks. He shucks his briefs too at Derek’s growl, hands them over without hesitation. Derek grins in appreciation, then undoes his jeans and slips them down and off. Next goes his shirt, his muscles rippling as it’s pulled off and cast aside. Stiles feels himself drooling at the sight of Derek Hale in black boxer-briefs, and Derek grabs something out of his pocket before moving the coffee table and dropping a pillow on the floor between his spread legs.

“On your knees, pretty boy. Rest your head on my thigh.”

Stiles sinks to the ground like his strings have been cut, crawls over and puts his head on Derek’s thigh, which is corded in muscle. Derek’s chest has a bit of hair and a fairly defined happy trail, but the rest of his body has a normal amount. Stiles just rests and breathes in Derek’s scent, so much stronger now that he’s about 3 inches away from Derek’s crotch. That margin is fast shrinking fast though, as Derek’s cock starts to swell in interest.

Derek grasps Stiles’ hair firmly, keeps him from burying his face in Derek’s groin.

“If you can be good, I’ll let you make me come. Would you like that, Stiles?”

“Yesgshgn…. Yesss, fuck Derek please.”

“What’s your color?”

“….green….”

“Good, good boy. Now tell me what you’re doing here.”

Stiles looks up, and Derek’s got the photos they took last night pressed right next to his clothed, beautiful cock. Stiles whines, because no way will he be able to concentrate with that swinging in his face. Derek just tightens his grip and waits, pointer finger on the first picture. Stiles swallows and rasps out,

“Those ones were at-at first, you’re scenting me.”

“Hmmm, when you offered yourself up to me. Just spread your legs and let me climb between, didn’t you?”

The grip on his hair tightens, and Stiles groans his agreement. He regrets nothing.

“This one, then.”

Stiles opens his eyes, having been too busy nuzzling Derek’s thigh while savoring the sting on his scalp. He grins in recognition.

“I bit your earlobe. You got…aggressive.”

That’s an understatement. At the time Stiles had worried the crazy arcade owner would kick them out of the place, as Derek had growled loudly enough. In the picture Derek is biting fiercely at his neck, while Stiles stares directly into the camera looking-

“Unrepentant, that’s what you are. Do anything you could to get my cock, wouldn’t you?”

Stiles gives a mischievous grin and tries to lunge forward again, hissing when Derek pulls his head back.

“I thought you were going to be good?”

Stiles pouts, but sits back and gives Derek the doe-eyes. They work well enough, because Derek just raises his eyebrows and points to the next picture.

It’s the best kind of torture, going through their soft-core porn together. By the time they’re on the last strip Stiles can barely think straight. He keeps rocking back, desperate in a way he’s never been to feel something in his hole. He’s also beyond floating right now, gazing drunkenly at Derek’s cock and licking his lips. Derek isn’t faring much better, but for now he’s in control. His entire body is covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and his eyes are continuously glowing red. He points to the second to last picture.

“Here.”

Stiles whines and tries to concentrate. Why won’t Derek just fuck him already, he wants to get _used_. But he manages to focus long enough to get out,

“You- M’ coming and you- you like it.”

It’s not untrue, but it’s an understatement. Stiles’ face is in the throws of orgasm, head thrown back and newly marked neck shiny with spit. His sinful lips form a delicious “O”, and his knuckles are white where he’s clutching Derek’s back. Derek himself is looking smug and awed, the combination making him look like the predator he is, having finally caught his prey. Derek grunts and bucks his hips a little, and the motion makes the tip of his still-clothed dick just kiss Stiles’ mouth. Stiles looks up at Derek desperately, and before he can beg Derek says,

“One more, then reward.”

And oooh Stiles likes the caveman talk. So he focuses up one last time, and feels his entire body tense to keep from coming.

“You’re smelling me…you’re smelling my slick, oh fuck please please please…”

Derek’s self-control is clearly at an end, because he rips his underwear off like the drama king he is and Stiles has an eyeful of cock, long but not too thick and curved a bit to the left. Derek’s balls are mysteriously short on hair, and they look proportional and soft and Stiles wants to suck on them so badly. But mostly he wants Derek in his mouth, a wish that is shortly granted as Derek grasps him firmly by the base of the neck and feeds Stiles his impressive dick.

And just like that, Stiles is alive. He feels the blood rushing through his body, the hot pleasure coursing through every part of him, especially his hole. He is aware of the obscene amount of slick pouring out of him, feels it where it’s slippery between his thighs. He aches and he wants, he needs Derek to come, needs to please his Alpha and mate. He doesn’t have to wait long, because a few sloppy-wet thrusts into his mouth later, Derek is coming with a quiet howl.

He’s a thing of beauty, hardened muscle and Adonis face gone taut in ecstasy, claws popped and eyes burning bright. Stiles barely feels his own dick leak more pre-cum, he’s so focused on swallowing every drop while committing the sight of his lover coming to memory.

Derek barely even catches his breath though, just breathes hard and stares at Stiles in a way that promises only bad, sinful things. Stiles whimpers around the cock in his mouth, and Derek shudders before yanking him off. Then he slaps Stiles a few times across the face with his still hard cock, wiping off the excess cum Stiles missed. By the time he pulls Stiles into his lap and starts prodding at his hole Stiles is shaking with need, desperate in a way he’s never been. His entire body feels too hot, and he needs to cum or he thinks he will die.

Derek, beautiful werewolf that he is, seems to have no intentions of teasing him further. He kisses Stiles hungrily, chasing his taste out of Stiles’ mouth while his fingers _finally_ sink into Stiles’ newly sensitive hole, searching for his prostate and then-

Stiles cums, back arching and hole pulsing, leaking around Derek’s two fingers. He shudders and gasps for air, seeing stars and promptly collapsing into Derek’s waiting arms when it finally ends. The both come down eventually, breathing hard, clutching each other tight. Now that Stiles is aware of the bond, he can almost feel it become stronger- like a golden thread tying him to Derek. It feels like comfort, safety and desire, and Stiles happily embraces it, clings tight to the feeling. If he had the energy, he’d be grabbing Derek and screaming “Mine! All Mine!”, but as is he can barely focus on breathing. Having the best orgasm of your life tends to leave one a bit dazed.

Derek recovers first, grabs the throw blanket from the back of the couch and covers Stiles in it. Then he gently carries him bridal-style to the freezer, where he grabs the Half-Baked and returns to the couch. As Stiles is being spoon-fed delicious sugary goodness by his future mate, he can’t help but ask,

“How to we cement the bond? Not that we’re still not taking it slow, but- hey! There was cookie dough in that bite.”

Derek grins and licks the spoon clean, and Stiles wishes he had the refractory period of a 16 year old again. Instead, he just appreciates the view as Derek gives him a generous spoonful, saying,

“When I knot you. Don’t worry, I’m going to make it so by the time we’re ready, you’ll be _begging_ for it.”

Stiles moans around his mouthful of ice-cream and snuggles up to his werewolf-boyfriend-mate. Looks like everything’s coming up Stilinski.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please follow me on tumblr!
> 
> http://versus21.tumblr.com
> 
> As always, I love any suggestions and ideas! Thank you all so much again for the support this story has gotten.


	5. The Meet & Greet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m meeting him,” Scott growls.
> 
>  
> 
> “Sure thing, Scotty my boy. I’ll just set up a meeting with representatives from your two great countries. I’m sure something is available next month.”
> 
>  
> 
> “TODAY.”

When Stiles plops down at his desk the next day, he instantly espies the Cookies n’ Cream cupcake from his favorite bakery sitting on his desk. He looks up and sees Scott give him a goofy smile that is somehow also laced with sympathy, and he remembers: he had a complete nuclear meltdown yesterday. In the bathroom. At work.

 

He groans and slams his face on his desk. Lucy, he’s got some ‘splaining to do.

 

“Heeeeeyyyy, buddy. Just gotta take it one day at a time. We’re gonna make that arrest for the cat-burglaries today- putting bad guys away always cheers you up!”

 

Stiles begins to bang his head on the desk repeatedly.

 

“Dude, he’s clearly a grade-A jerk who is not worth your time. We’re gonna get through this.”

 

“I’m already through it. He was at my apartment last night when I got home.”

 

Scott’s eyes flash red, and he gets up and drags Stiles with him to the bathroom. Again. For the second time in less than 18 hours. They’re going to make the gossips at the water cooler happy. Once in the bathroom Scott starts not-so-subtly scenting Stiles, and wrinkles his nose instantly. Then he covers his mouth with one hand and waves the other in front of his face like a Southern belle, because apparently Stiles’ natural odor has offended his delicate sensibilities.

 

“What the hell, Stiles, you reek! You smell like…ugh, like him! Like you still, but waaaaay happier and hornier and like him.”

 

“So a funny thing happened on the way to the forum last night…”

 

Stiles recounts the whole adventure, only leaving out the sexy times that happened at the end. He emphasizes the ‘True Mates’ thing (because Scott’s a romantic) and also plays down the whole ‘body changes’ aspect. Scott listens with seemingly growing disbelief, then seems to shake himself. He glares at Stiles, though the look is rendered less intimidating with his hands covering his mouth. Stiles just does his best to look completely innocent, but he thinks he just ends up looking like he’s holding in a fart.

 

“I’m meeting him,” Scott growls.

 

“Sure thing, Scotty my boy. I’ll just set up a meeting with representatives from your two great countries. I’m sure something is available next month.”

 

“TODAY.”

 

Dammit, Scott has his serious/righteous face on, and Stiles knows better than to try and talk him out of anything now. So he whips out his phone and shoots off a quick text to Derek.

 

SS: You available for lunch today?

 

DH: Come by the bar. Bring Scott.

 

SS: How did you…. Nevermind, weird Alpha thing. We’ll be there at 1, thank you kinkly.

 

SS: KINDLY. Thank you KINDLY.

 

“Alright it’s settled! The “Iran Nuclear Talks-Part 2” is scheduled for today at 1. Who else is excited? I’m feeling pretty good, it’s a new age in diplomacy.”

 

Scott just keeps glaring at Stiles as he backs out of the bathroom. Stiles splashes cool water on his face and takes a minute to run through possible end-game scenarios in his mind. When he figures out the worst that could happen ends with him hiding out in Tijuana as a bartender, he leaves the bathroom and sits back down at his desk.

 

Where Scott has left crumbs from his now-eaten cupcake. Stiles throws the wrapper at him, but Scott’s judgmental stare holds no remorse. Stiles tries to lighten the mood all day, but Scott just remains uncharacteristically quiet. Not even tackling one of the cat-burglars to the ground seems to cheer him up.

 

Fuck, this is going to be a disaster.

 

\---------------------

 

The instant Scott walks in the bar, two sets of golden eyes shine. Erica and Boyd keep a respectful distance, but both wolves are clearly on edge. Scott holds his chin up and merely nods at them, respectfully not flashing his eyes and displaying his dominance. This seems to relax Erica at least, because she leans forward to display a healthy amount of cleavage from across the bar. Scott blushes and looks away, something Boyd seems pleased by. Then he swats Erica on the ass and tells her to stop flirting, they’ve got customers.

 

Stiles feels him before he sees him. He gets a slight tingle in the left side of his body, and follows the tug to a booth hidden towards the front-corner of the bar. It’s still private, but less intimate than their first booth, and the exits are more easily accessible. It’s the opportune place to have a meeting that might go South of the border, and Stiles is internally pleased by his future-mate’s strategic planning. Then he sees Derek, and _everything_ about him is pleased.

 

Derek looks good, in a worn pair of dark blue jeans with a maroon-sweater top (are those thumb-holes?? Adorable). His face visibly lightens when he sees Stiles. He doesn’t smile or anything, but Stiles can tell. Then Scott steps between them and it’s a good old fashioned scowl-off.

 

Derek has the lead, right out of the gate. He naturally has the sharp features that give him the advantage at looking menacing, whereas Scott’s goodness shines through, even to his adorable crooked jawline. Neither break the stare for a good minute, and Stiles almost wishes he had popcorn. Then Scott slowly leans in and sniffs Derek, and Derek does the same to him.

 

It’s like a light switch is turned. Scott pulls away and smiles a bit, offers Derek his hand to shake. Derek nods and takes it, and the handshake they share seems to be genuine. Seriously, Stiles doesn’t hear any bones crack at all.

 

“Stiles says your burritos are amazing. Can’t wait to eat, this place looks great!”

 

And oh, Stiles loves Scott. He’s so friendly and just good-natured, it’s impossible not to. Derek even seems surprised by the quick turn around of attitude, but he nods and motions towards the booth. Scott scoots in, and Stiles gives Derek a nice peck on the lips for his peace-keeping efforts. He flips Scott the finger when he makes a gagging sound.

 

They all settle in, and after Boyd comes and takes their order (he’s visibly unimpressed by Scott’s inviting smile) Scott leans back and looks over all of Derek.

 

“You smell like him!”

 

Both Stiles and Derek give Scott a look. Stiles likes to think it’s better than Derek’s Your-Best-Friend-Is-Batshit-Crazy look, but he thinks he just ends up looking like he’s swallowed something too spicy. Scott laughs and explains,

 

“When Stiles first told me what had happened, I thought maybe you were still using him, you know? Stiles is awesome and he tends to smell like catnip to us wolves, for whatever reason. It’s unlike him to get attached that quick though, so I thought maybe there was something quirky-magical going on? Like a succubus or something?”

 

“Dude, that’s what I thought about Derek at first!”

 

They high-five, and Derek looks like he regrets some of his life choices. Scott continues,

 

“But you smell like him. You let him mark you, and even your underlying scent is thoroughly saturated. I know what a big deal that is for us, so you must really like him. So, we’re cool. Except you guys have terrible communication, you should work on that. Oh hey, food!”

 

Scott’s a puppy. Seriously, Stiles thinks he was bitten by a rogue were-puppy, not a werewolf. Derek just looks bewildered, and goes through the motions of eating his burrito. He doesn’t say much, but he does occasionally smile at Stiles when he cracks a joke. By the end of the meal he even asks Scott to pass him a napkin, which Stiles is counting as complete and total victory. The meal ends, and Scott goes over to the bar to chat to Boyd, who is clearly having none of it. Derek walks Stiles to the door, and pulls him in for a hug.

 

Stiles feels something inside him melt when they embrace. To others it may just look like an awkwardly long man-hug, but he can feel every inch of Derek pressed against him. It’s not sexual, it’s comforting. Stiles feels relief wash through him, to be holding his future mate so close. Derek rubs his stubble across Stiles’ neck, and Stiles sighs into the blatant scent-marking. He’s in a happy cocoon here with Derek, so his pouting when they have to part is completely reasonable.

 

Scott and Boyd are gazing at them, and Stiles knows that look (his Dad has given it enough times)- they are a little fond, a little disgusted, and a little worried.

 

“How long do you have?” Scott asks quietly.

 

“A week. More or less. Probably less.” Derek answers, just as soft, while running his fingers through Stiles’ hair, massaging his scalp a bit. Stiles has no idea what they’re talking about, and the fingers are not helping.

 

“Mmmm a week? Before…your Netflix subscription is up?”

 

Derek chuckles and kisses him on the cheek.

 

“A week before not claiming you makes me go feral.”

 

Back the fuck up.

 

“Back the fuck up.”

 

Derek sighs and does the hand-massage thing again, and while Stiles fights it eventually he just crumbles and cuddles right up.

 

“With any kind of mate, if the bond is not cemented in time, my wolf will turn volatile. It’s different with each couple, the amount of time involved and how they bond. For us, being true mates, we have less time as our bonding will be…intense.”

 

Stiles moans at the thought. Scott turns to Boyd and says,

 

“That’s the most I’ve ever heard Derek say.”

 

Boyd nods.

 

Scott seems gleeful at making Boyd react in any way, and then he goes and carefully extracts Stiles from Derek’s hold. Derek growls and postures, but Scott just laughs it off, leaving Derek once again bewildered as Scott strolls out of the bar, dragging a heart-eyed Stiles behind him.

 

“You’ve got it bad, man. Also, you should probably take the weekend off. Maybe the whole week, he looks like he wanted to eat you.

 

The first thing Stiles does when he gets back is put in for all his vacation time starting Monday, plus sick days. When all is said and done, he and Derek will have 3 whole weeks together.

 

He can’t wait for Friday.

 

\---------------

 

Derek refuses to see him in person after that. He says he barely let Stiles get away, and he destroyed a chair when Scott did manage to drag him off.

 

“You’re driving my wolf crazy, and I want our bonding to be special. I have the perfect place in mind. But if I see you too soon, I will knot you in your hallway.”

 

Stiles groans into the phone’s earpiece. It’s a 3 parts aggravation, 4 parts sexual frustration groan.

 

“None of that now, pup. It’ll be worth the 2 day wait. Now tell me- what are you wearing?”

 

The groan Stiles lets out then is all parts sexual frustration.

 

\-------------------

 

Friday comes, and Stiles cannot sit still. Scott keeps hitting him with pencils, but Stiles does not give a flying rat’s ass- he’s antsy. Derek may have a wolf, but Stiles has a strong sex drive and his libido is going crazy. Not to mention their bond is growing ever stronger, despite the distance. They need to lock this down ASAP, or Stiles is going to scream. Then go find Derek, tackle him to the ground and rip his clothes off those perfect abs-

 

Another pencil hits him in the face.

 

“If I smell any more UST from you, I’m gonna make you jerk off in the bathroom.”

 

“Don’t fucking tempt me, Scotty boy.”

 

“2 more hours, Stiles. Just fill out your paperwork, and if you do it fast enough you can go home early!”

 

“Why….would you not SAY THAT EARLIER???”

 

Stiles doesn’t think he’s ever written so fast in his entire life. His hand is cramping when he says goodbye to Scott, but he’s out 45 minutes early. He runs to his apartment, and is panting by the time he gets up the stairs. He rinses off quickly in the shower, then collects his things and waits on the sidewalk where Derek and he agreed to meet.

 

15 minutes ahead of schedule, the sexiest black Camaro he has ever seen careens down his street. It screeches to a halt in front of him, and the trunk pops open. Stiles doesn’t have to look inside the tinted windows to know who it is- he throws his bags in, slams the trunk closed and wrenches the car door open.

 

He propels himself across the center console and into Derek’s arms, kissing him fervidly. Derek snarls through the kiss, grabbing Stiles and gripping him tightly, all before manhandling him into his seat. Stiles actively fights to get closer to his Alpha the entire time, but Derek effortlessly pins him down. Also, since his future mate is apparently a huge dick, he definitely does a bit of Stop-and-Search to Stiles’ dick when he buckles him in.

 

“Derek, please- Please I want you so badly I’m going crazy with it!”

 

“Don’t. Move.”

 

Oooooo there’s that tone- the one he used on Aiden in the bar, the one that does all sorts of sinful things to Stiles’ insides. Stiles tries to keep still, he really does because he wants to be good for Derek, who’s revving the engine and driving like they’re being chased by the LAPD. But by the time they’re on the highway and going around 90 MPH, Stiles can’t help but wriggle in his seat, arching his body up and presenting his neck and tits in whatever limiting way he can. Derek growls low in warning, and Stiles answers with his own, higher-pitched growl-whine, something he did not know he could do until now. Derek all but roars, then unzips his jeans and pulls his dick out of his pants. Stiles actively starts drooling, and he feels himself get even wetter. He’s ruining Derek’s leather interior.

 

“Can’t fucking wait a goddamn 30 minute drive, can you Stiles? Just have to be filled somewhere. Get that pretty mouth over here- I’m going to knot it.”

 

Stiles nearly chokes himself on his seatbelt, but he doesn’t care. The second his lips wrap around Derek’s cock, he’s floating. He’s in his perfect subspace, and everything else goes away. All he has to do is be Derek’s good boy, and he knows he’s being good, sucking and slurping around Derek’s cock like a pro. Derek is cursing above him, telling him how pretty he looks, how well he sucks cock. Derek’s hand is also in Stiles’ jeans, under his underwear and stroking his leaking hole. His hole is so sensitive at this point, the strokes feel like little firebursts of pleasure. He knows he can come from that alone- his hole being petted and Derek’s cock in his mouth. But he wants more, he wants-

 

There. Derek’s knot has begun to form, and Stiles renews his motions with increased enthusiasm. He pushes himself down as far as he can go, gagging but desperate, drooling all over Derek’s lap. Derek doesn’t even need to hold him down, he holds his head still as the knot forms in his mouth, wiggling his hips still to get added friction from Derek’s hand. Derek is moaning above him, saying,

 

“Not even the full size, baby, but you’re mouth isn’t big enough for the whole thing. Fuck I can feel the back of your throat- you’re amazing at this sweetheart, my perfect mate. Gonna cum like this, my good little boy? Gonna cum like the slut you are, dick in your mouth and fingers petting your little hole? So desperate for me Stiles, so fucking good— ”

 

Stiles screams around the dick in his mouth as he cums then, ruining his jeans and gushing out slick over Derek’s fingers. He is numb to all else for awhile after that, though he knows vaguely from the bond through his happy-floaty-euphoria that Derek has started to cum down his throat. He just suckles and swallows, feels his mind go blank and body go limp as Derek howls his release, then once again massages his head as they continue their drive. If Stiles were aware of time passing, he’d know that it takes about 15 minutes for Derek’s knot to go down. He stays half-hard in Stiles’ mouth though, one hand on Stiles’ ass and the other on the wheel. Stiles sucks and licks the rest of the ride there, floating and content in Derek’s lap. The remaining leg of the trip passes quickly.

 

When they arrive, Derek gently brings Stiles back to the real world with light touches and guiding hands. He has Stiles walk two steps ahead of him as they carry the bags in (“Put some sway into those hips, Stiles. Give me a show”). Stiles manages surfaces enough to take in his surroundings once they get to the living room after dropping their bags by the door.

 

Holy. Crap. This place is amazing. It’s the perfect sanctuary for Derek’s lone wolf- a log cabin in the middle of the woods, with lots of windows to let the sun in (and scan the surrounding area for potential threats). There are two floors, with the kitchen/living room area being one main room, then stairs leading to what Stiles assumes is the master bedroom and playroom. The whole building has a rustic, homey feel that screams security and comfort, but Stiles spies a satellite dish and new dishwasher in the kitchen, so he knows they will want for nothing.

 

“Derek, this place is amazing. Where did you find it?”

 

“Used to come out here to run a lot. It was an old hunter’s cabin. A real hunter, deer I think. I’ve been fixing it up over the years. It’s my sanctuary.”

 

“Your den. You have a den, you brought me to your beautiful, amazing den.”

 

Stiles turns from where he is admiring granite countertops and beams at Derek, saying,

 

“You are the most romantic thing that has ever happened to me.”

 

Derek beams back, clearly ecstatic that his mate has approved of his home. Then he leans in and cups Stiles’ face in his hand, giving him a gentle kiss that is reminiscent of their first. Stiles can feel himself slipping back into floaty subspace- it’s not even subspace, it’s more like matespace, since he is hyper aware of Derek when he is there- and he lets go. Derek cradles him in his arms and kisses him like he cherishes him, and Stiles feels the bond hum in satisfaction. Then Derek picks him up, and Stiles’ legs go around his waist. He kisses Derek’s neck as Derek begins to carry him upstairs to the bedroom, saying,

 

“You’re the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me, Stiles. My mate. And now, I finally get to claim you.”

 

Stiles grins into Derek’s shoulder, then nips Derek’s neck and whispers in his ear,

 

“Yes, Alpha.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it ends on a cliffhanger! Fear not, I will not leave you guys hanging for long. Anything you guys really want to see in the mating scene, please let me know!
> 
> As always, feel free to follow me on tumblr!
> 
> http://versus21.tumblr.com


	6. The Mating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Stiles cement their bond. For a smut-fest, it's surprisingly full of feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say again, thank you guys for all the support this fic has received. I try to listen to all your suggestions, and what is not in there now is probably coming up! Thank you thank you all again, and enjoy!

“Yes Alpha”

 

The words have their desired effect. Derek roars and charges up the stairs, kicks down yet another door as they burst into the bedroom. Stiles takes in absolutely zero of the décor as Derek sets him down and begins to shred his clothing. He tries to help, but he figures it’s best to stay still as Derek’s claws have come out to play, tearing open his work shirt and giving trendy tears to his jeans. When Stiles in finally naked, Derek steps back and devours him with his eyes. Stiles preens under his Alpha’s gaze, and when Derek makes the motion he turns completely around, allowing his soon-to-be-mate to view all of him. He idly wonders if his thighs are shiny, since he can feel slick start to drip down there.

 

“Undress me, sweetheart.”

 

Unlike his mate, Stiles takes his sweet time unwrapping the present that is Derek Hale’s body. He can feel the urgency of the wolf through their bond, and he knows they don’t have too much longer before Derek snaps. So he savors the tenderness of the moment for now, kisses Derek’s palm and knuckles as he unbuttons his shirt, then reverently licks and kisses his stomach as it is unveiled to him. He nuzzles at Derek’s shoulder, rubs himself on Derek’s gorgeous back muscles as he walks fully around to take the shirt off Derek’s back. Then he moves on to Derek’s jeans, moans when he sees the black belt that has been part of his fantasies for the past week. Derek smirks, and Stiles’ fingers tremble as he undoes the belt, handing it willingly over to Derek with a shy smile. Derek takes it and motions for Stiles to continue, so Stiles unzips Derek’s jeans and grins when he sees no underwear.

 

Stiles goes to his knees to help Derek step out of his jeans, and feels a sense of rightness wash over him. He can’t help but feel like this was where he was always meant to be, here at Derek’s feet. He wants to worship his Alpha, please him and take care of him, be loved and cherished in return. He sighs when he’s finished his task, nuzzles again at Derek’s thigh and crotch, inhaling his Alpha’s scent where it’s strongest and feeling himself sink deeper and deeper into matespace. He’s been here before, but where there was calm before there is desperation. It’s easy enough to ignore for now- he knows Derek will take care of him.

 

Derek does not share his patience. He hauls Stiles up and kisses him fiercely, all tongue and teeth, before spinning him around so they are pressed ass to crotch. Stiles gasps as fire courses through his veins, and he immediately starts to hump back, spreading his slick all over Derek’s cock and stomach. Derek is breathing heavily, and he stills Stiles by grasping his cock tight-too-tight, then reaching up and placing a gentle yet firm hand around his throat.

 

Stiles calms instantly, going limp against Derek’s hard form as he lets his Alpha kiss and mark his neck, bringing to life new bruises as his ass leaks and his mind floats. Derek pushes his hips forward, teasing his cock along Stiles’ entrance and Stiles stumbles forward, unable to balance himself. Derek hums his approval and keeps hump-walking Stiles to the bed, pushing him roughly onto the mattress when they arrive at their final destination. Stiles then feels himself being lifted and pushed into the center of the bed, face down and ass up, his knees spread by rough hands as he is presented to his Alpha for their mating.

 

Derek then snaps the belt in his hands, and Stiles feels himself shiver and whine. The worn leather traces the backs of his thighs and his ass, works up the knobs of his spine until Derek is holding it at the base of his neck, a threat and comfort all at once.

 

“Wrists. Bedframe.”

 

Stiles sympathizes with the lack of full sentences- he feels like he could barely count to 3 at this point. But he knows what Derek wants, their forming bond aiding in communication. He lifts his arms and places his wrists by one of the bars on the bedframe, pressing up to touch as Derek blankets him with his body as he secures Stiles’ wrists to the bar with the belt. Derek rubs himself all over Stiles as he makes his way back down his body, hands taking particular time to squeeze and pinch his nipples until he knows the sheets will bring a sting of pain when Stiles rubs against them. As he sits back on his haunches, feeling his wolf begin to approach full rut, he takes a moment to memorize the picture before him.

 

He knows his world will change after this mating. It’s already so different, full of life and joy that Stiles launched into his world. His beautiful, brilliant boy, who brings the brightness of the sun and the wild call of sin into Derek’s heart. Derek thanks the Mother Moon for his gift, knows he will never be able to repay Her. He contents himself with knowing that he will make up for this by keeping Stiles happy for the rest of their lives. If Stiles were a full male Omega he would carry their children, and Derek feels an ache for the child that has Stiles’ eyes and moles, combined with his own wolf. He knows the dream is impossible, but maybe Stiles and he could adopt instead. He wants that, wants a family with Stiles. Wants to help his mate raise their children, fuss over them and sneak kisses between midnight-feedings and school recitals. Plans made, he can return to the task at hand, which is no great hardship.

 

He runs his hands down Stiles’ back and notes that his claws have fully popped out, and he amuses himself for a moment by tracing pink lines down Stiles’ back that have his mate squirming and arching for more. He frowns a little when they refuse to go back in, and he realizes at that moment he has lost control of his beta-shift. The realization draws a startled breath from him, and he keens when the smell of Stiles hits him fully in this form.

 

His mate smells like ambrosia, sex and sweat emitting from his body but focused from his hole. Stiles’ hole is pink and glistening, winking at him as his mate arches his back and presents himself. Derek grabs at Stiles’ hips, pulling him back and attacking the source of his sweet torture with his tongue.

 

Stiles actually screams a little when Derek loses it and goes to town on his ass. Rimming is one of his favorite things EVER, and that was before his hole became the most sensitive part of him. There’s no finesse to Derek’s technique, but Stiles knows this is only because he’s wolfed out (the claws are a major clue). He has a feeling (based on the way Derek is dragging his fangs around his hole before tracing the rim with his tongue and just _diving in_ ) that Derek will be a complete and shameless tease once he figures out what Stiles likes.

 

He clearly has no great difficulties taking Stiles apart.

 

Stiles begins to lose his voice when Derek reaches up and grasps his cock, holding back the orgasm Derek’s tongue would have brought within the first 2 minutes of his rimming. Stiles cries and pleads- well, he makes whining noises and whimpers. He does wail when Derek spits on his crack, then holds his cheeks open as he watches it drip down down down to Stiles’ hole. Stiles feels his asshole clench, and he cries out again as his second orgasm is stopped as his hole greedily swallows Derek’s spit, wanting any part of the Alpha he can get.

 

That seems to be all Derek can take. In his matespace Stiles feels his Alpha’s desperation as he slashes through the belt, leaving Stiles’ wrists still tied but free of the bar. Stiles finds himself flipped over, staring into the eyes of his mate in full beta-shift for the first time as Derek spreads his legs and looms over him, panting through a mouth of fang.

 

Most things are fuzzier in matespace, but everything about Derek is heightened to Stiles. His features, his smell, his appeal, and especially his emotions. It’s great for things like an almost-shared orgasm, but it’s even better because it allows them to anticipate needs. Derek hadn’t needed to ask for a color when he tied Stiles to the bedframe- he’d felt the enthusiastic approval through the bond. Right now, Stiles is feeling Derek’s need but also his fear. Even now, he’s scared Stiles will reject him, as he sees Derek’s other form for the first time.

 

Weak as he is, Stiles lifts himself as much as he can, hooking his legs around Derek’s waist. The position gives him both leverage and allows for their cocks to rub together, Derek’s leaking a ridiculous amount of pre-cum. Stiles feels electrified by the contact, but he has a more important motive to the position. He leans and nuzzles himself against Derek’s face, kisses his fangs and where his eyebrows used to be. He licks Derek’s neck and gently kisses his face, tries to show what he feels.

 

“Beautiful, you’re beautiful D’rek.”

 

Derek whines above him, closes his eyes and shakes his head, but Stiles is having none of that. He raises his tied arms and loops them over Derek’s head, appreciating the shoulder muscles under his forearms. He uses the position to butt their heads together, kissing and humming encouragingly as his mate shakes above him, his emotions running high.

 

“Beautiful, perfect. I love you, Der, love my Alpha.”

 

Derek stills at this, red-rimmed eyes flying open as Stiles smiles up at him, open in a way he never is around others. He trusts Derek- knows his mate needs to hear what he means to him, and he’ll give everything he has to the man above him. He wants a life with Derek, the perfect, cliché life with a picket fence and kids running around the house. They’ll drive them crazy, but they’ll have Derek’s eyebrows and his ears, and Stiles will love them with all his heart. He’ll get to watch Derek play with them, watch his mate be filled with home and family until he’s smiling all the time, and Stiles will do everything he can to give Derek that, his happy ending. Even as he is thinking of adoption agencies they can use, he feels something shift within him, but he’s distracted by Derek whispering back,

 

“I love you too, Stiles. My sweet mate.”

 

Then Stiles feels Derek’s cock at his entrance, which has been loosened by Derek’s tongue and is dripping with slick and drool. Derek’s eyes go from tender and awed to fierce and possessive in one instant. He presses in slowly, eyes fixed upon his mate’s writhing frame and o-shaped lips, letting out a furious

 

“ _Mine_.”

 

Stiles is thrashing on his dick, bucking as wordless screams escape his lips. He cums for the first time when Derek’s cock is completely in him, and Derek roars as his mate keens below him, shaking through his first orgasm.

 

Derek has never felt more aware of another being in his entire life. Stiles is so warm and wet, tight around his cock to the point where he almost wonders if it is painful for Stiles. But then his mate comes from being properly filled for the first time, and Derek howls in smug victory.

 

“ _Good boy_ ” he hears himself snarl at Stiles when Stiles seems to have calmed down a bit, and Stiles’ eyes widen and he chokes on air as he cums again, surprising both of them as Derek sees Stiles’ eyes roll back in his head as he drifts in matespace. His body goes pliant beneath Derek, except his hole, which seems to have a vice-grip on Derek’s cock. Stiles smiles blearily up at Derek, swaying with every push and violent thrust Derek gives. Derek doesn’t understand why Stiles is so calm until he feels Stiles weakly press Derek’s head forward, bearing his collarbone to Derek’s fangs.

 

Derek whines anew, thrusting as hard as he can, needing the friction on his cock because he can feel his knot begin to swell and knows soon he will be locked into the tight heat of Stiles’ hole, unable to pound into him. He understands why his mate is so calm now- he knows their mating will soon be complete. All Derek has to do is bite him when his knot sinks in, and they are tied forever.

 

Derek has no patience for waiting.

 

He hitches Stiles further up his body and begins to drill directly into him, swiveling his hips about every third thrust as Stiles’ body tries to keep him in, tries to keep his knot. Below him Stiles has become frantic again, weakly tugging at him as Stiles begs,

 

“Give it to me Der, want your knot, want your pups, give me your knot, please _please_ …”

 

Derek roars a final time, this time so loud the windows rattle in their panes. He thrusts in one last time, feels his knot swell and sinks his teeth above Stiles’ left collarbone, holds him fast as he begins to cum so intensely his vision blacks out. He feels their golden connection snap fully into place, feels Stiles joyfully receive and celebrate their union, cumming again for the third time with a whisper of his name. He feels Stiles shudder, his body milking his knot as they shake together, overwhelmed with their union. They fit now, imperfect beings together in their perfect mating.

 

Derek releases Stiles from his bite as soon as he is able, licking at his mate’s wounds as Stiles sighs into the attention, completely sated. He is content to lie back as his mate grinds into him and showers him with kisses and attention. Then Derek gently rolls them over so Stiles is on top, and cradles him to his chest as Stiles closes his eyes and feels his matespace turn into sleep, dozing as his mate traces his skin and continues to cum in him, making pleased growls.

 

Stiles smiles before he drifts into unconsciousness, and he dreams of small footsteps and baby fangs.

 

\----------------------

 

Stiles is floating, being tugged back and forth. He wakes slowly, aware that he is whimpering and being shushed by his mate. His mate who is apparently a dick, because he is being lifted and made to sit up. Why-

 

Holy shit. Stiles reawakens fully with a gasp, feeling Derek’s magnificent cock fully inside of him as he sits down on it completely, straddling his mate. His mate who has wonderful ideas, and is looking smugly up at him. Derek looks happy and predatory, and Stiles feels himself shiver under the intensity of his eyes.

 

“Finally awake, baby? You milked my cock once more while you were still asleep- haven’t let it go since I put it in you.”

 

Stiles looks down and moans, sees that Derek’s chiseled abs are caked in his cum. Some of it has even apparently landed on his nipple. Derek looks immensely pleased by this, folding his arms beneath his head. The position makes his biceps bulge and his stomach muscles grow taut, and Stiles whimpers and begins to work himself on Derek’s cock. Small, desperate movements, as he hasn’t been given permission yet. Derek grins and nods, saying,

 

“Ride me until you cum. Don’t touch your little cock- hands on your nipples or on me.”

 

Stiles moans out a “Thank you, Alpha” before grabbing at Derek’s chest, combing his fingers through the course hairs there and working himself up and down on his Alpha’s cock. Derek growls and his eyes flash red, but he makes no move to help Stiles. This is more than alright with Stiles, as he has the most magnificent cock in the world up his ass. He positions it just right and feels it hits his prostate, arching up and crying out when it does. He kisses Derek frantically and moves a hand down to pinch at his nipples, wanting to give his mate a show.

 

Except holy fuck, his nipples are so sensitive he almost cums as soon as he touches them. They feel raw, and give him the same amount of pleasure he would normally get if Derek fondled his balls. It feels amazing, and Stiles can feel him bring himself closer with the pleasure-pain that zips through him as he twists and pinches, flicking his hands over his sore nubs.

 

“So good for me, Stiles. Look so gorgeous on my cock. You know you came twice in your sleep? Little hole can’t get enough of this big cock, even now. But you came without my permission, didn’t you? Let your slutty hole do the thinking for you, and now it got you into trouble. Now I have to _punish you_.”

 

Stiles keens and nods, working himself faster. He’s so close, so close.

 

“Please Derek, please let me cum, I’m sorry I’ll do whatever you want, please fill me up I _need_ it.”

 

“Already filled you up, baby. You’re full of my cum now, I bred you nice and full.”

 

Stiles whines and moves faster. His legs are sore but his body is alive in pleasure, a livewire desperate to spark off.

 

“Please, please Alpha!”

 

“You beg so well, Stiles. I’ll let you cum, but you’re gonna be edged later. Gonna use you for the rest of the day, and I won’t let you cum until I think you’ve learned your lesson.”

 

“Yes, yes pleeease D’rek let me cum please please-”

 

“Cum for me, Stiles”

 

Stiles does, back bowed and voice hoarse as he wails his release, cock pulsing out more cum onto Derek’s stomach. Derek’s eyes glow and don’t leave Stiles’ form as he cums as well, prolonging Stiles’ orgasm with his own through the bond.

 

Stiles feels the ferocious wave of possessiveness that comes through the bond, so he is surprised when he doesn’t feel Derek’s knot form. Instead Derek flips them over and puts a few pillows under Stiles’ hips, gently pulling out and shushing his mate as Stiles whines.

 

“Keep your hips up” Derek says gently, easing Stiles into a comfortable position. He then gets up and crosses to the bureau on the other side of the room. As Stiles peacefully surfaces from matespace for the first time in hours, he sees his mate walk back over with a pink plug. He makes small, pleasured noises as Derek works it slowly into him, taking his time to see Stiles’ rim stretched around the plug. When he’s finally got it all the way in, Stiles is hard again, but he’s also exhausted. Derek sweeps him up into his arms, carrying Stiles out of the bedroom bridal style as he brings his mate downstairs, instincts telling him to provide and feed his love.

 

“Come on pup, lets get some food in you. You’re going to need your strength, I’m going to keep you full of my cum all day.”

 

Stiles laughs and kisses Derek’s cheek, saying,

 

“Yes, Alpha.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More smut in the next chapter, but also some serious discussions!
> 
> As always, I'm open to suggestions and please follow me on tumblr!
> 
> http://versus21.tumblr.com/


	7. The Post-Mating Discussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Welcome to our playroom. I want you under the ceiling restraints.”
> 
> OR
> 
> Derek and Stiles have a nice discussion about the future, but get side-tracked by some hot steamy loving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you all so much for the love and support, it means the world to me. As always, anything you want to see let me know!

Stiles insists on helping when they get back downstairs, and they spend a lazy few minutes preparing some truly epic omlettes. Derek slices the tomatoes, bacon and onions while Stiles cracks some eggs and sizzles the bacon. While Stiles is tending to the pan, Derek squeezes them fresh orange juice. With his hands. Stiles rolls his eyes and calls him a showoff, but he knows Derek feels the appreciation he accidentally sends through the bond, flattered his mate is being such a good provider. Derek preens and makes them a whole jug of juice.

 

 

Eating proves to be a challenge. Stiles yelps when he tries to sit, plug pressing in _all_ the right places. Derek frowns, and runs upstairs, quickly returning with a matching bright pink cock ring. Stiles gives his best doe eyes, and Derek just slips the ring on, saying,

 

“I pictured doing this, the first time you gave me those Bambi eyes.”

 

Then he snaps the ring on and walks back over to his seat, leaving Stiles feeling betrayed and horny. He digs into his eggs with a vengeance, but his resentment is soon replaced by contentment as delicious cheesy goodness fills his belly. He smiles and rubs his belly when he’s done, fork clattering on the plate as he drinks his juice and once again takes in his surroundings.

 

“The house is seriously gorgeous, Derek. It looks like it’s from a magazine, “Woodsy Werewolves Monthly”. I can’t believe you did most of this yourself.”

 

Derek’s eyes are on Stiles’ belly, and he feels his wolf yip in delight at the sight of his mate, full and content in their den. He shakes himself and nods in acknowledgment of Stiles’ praise,

 

“Been a pet project for years.”

 

“Well, you treat your pets well. Ever think about settling down here?”

 

It’s phrased casually, but Derek can’t help the surge of want he sends through the bond. They’re both still learning to control it, so while Derek knows he’s in for a few embarrassing moments, he still blushes when Stiles looks at him in surprise. Derek tries to hide his face by playing with his fork, and sensing his discomfort Stiles tries again,

 

“Because I think this would be a great place to set up shop. I don’t think the drive down was too long, right? Granted I was a bit distracted, but- coming home to this everyday, your own little sanctuary? Man, that’d be awesome. I mean, not that I’m inviting myself to move in, that’s- that’s crazy! I’m just saying, I could really see you pulling off the lumberjack look and-”

 

“I’d want to build a porch for the kids first.”

 

Derek is staring resolutely at his plate, and while his face is stoic Stiles can tell how mortified he is that he said that. Moving carefully, Stiles slowly leans over and places his hand on Derek’s.

 

“The kids will love that. If they’re any kind of wolf, they’ll love being outside.”

 

Derek nods jerkily, and while he’s still tense he doesn’t move his hand away, so Stiles continues.

 

“Easier to keep an eye on too, this place has so many windows. Plus if they’re anything like me, they’re gonna have WAY too much energy.”

 

“I hope they’re just like you.”

 

Stiles feels himself tear up, and he presses a kiss to the back of Derek’s hand. It’s his turn to look away now, as he rubs his cheek against Derek’s palm and whispers,

 

“I wish I could give them- our babies- to you.”

 

Derek whines and brings Stiles into his lap, kissing him with desperation and gratitude. He nips at Stiles’ lips and chases his tongue with his own, doesn’t let go until he can’t smell sadness emitting from his mate anymore. When Stiles is flushed and smells of want, Derek breaks the kiss and says,

 

“You’re more than I ever even thought to want. Don’t _ever_ think you’re not enough for me.”

 

Stiles looks at him lovingly, a dazed smile on his face, and Derek is relieved that he did something right. His wolf is smug, and demands they make their mate feel better in all possible ways, now that he is fed and happy. Derek agrees, and shifts Stiles so he is straddling Derek in the chair.

 

“I have a new rule I want to run by you, Stiles. It’d apply to every scene we were in.”

 

“Sounds kinky.”

 

“….That is the point. From now on, you can only cum with some part of me inside you. It doesn’t matter if it’s my fingers, tongue or cock- you only get to cum if one of your holes is being filled.”

 

Stiles shudders above him, and nods his assent.

 

“Sounds…. Fuck that sounds good, sounds fair.”

 

Stiles is already working up ways in his mind to cheat. If he just needs to get a part of Derek inside him, he doesn’t need express permission. Yeah, he can definitely work with this. He seals the deal with a hot kiss, and Derek whispers against his lips,

 

“ _Good._ ”

 

Then he reaches under his seat and pulls out a bright pink remote. Before Stiles can even ask, he presses the button, and the cock ring and plug begin to vibrate.

 

Stiles jolts and moans, clinging to Derek while frantically rubbing himself all over the older man. He clenches around the plug and knows he would have cum about two times if not for the stupid cock ring and the stupid rule he just agreed to.

 

“Be a good boy, or I’ll take the cock ring away and you won’t have any help.”

 

The thought of no stimulation to his dick, however torturous, has Stiles nodding, looking up at Derek with desperate eyes as he awaits his next order. Derek gazes back serenely, catching Stiles’ mouth in a warm kiss that lacks all the urgency Stiles feels. Then he slaps Stiles’ ass and nods to the plates on the table, saying,

 

“Washed and dried. You’re going to take your punishment afterwards, but if you’re quick I’ll let you suck me off beforehand.”

 

“That’s SO unfair. Fiiiine.”

 

Stiles pouts but he feels a tingle all over, hurrying to get the dishes together and bring them over to the sink. As he’s just turned the faucet on, the vibrations keep up a notch and he groans, glaring back at a stoic Derek. His mate says nothing, just stares intently at Stiles while resting his head on one hand, other hand toying with the remote. Stiles gulps and turns back to the task at hand, scrubbing as quickly as he can. It doesn’t end up mattering, as Derek idly makes the vibrations go up and down in intensity with no discernible pattern. By the end Stiles is a hot mess, sweating and shakily putting the last fork in the drying rack.

 

He inhales sharply as he feels a warm body behind his own, feels Derek shut the vibrations off completely. He’s still shaking, and he’s been denied an orgasm at least twice already by the stupid cock ring. Derek shushes him as he gently pulls the plug out, the carefully tilting Stiles’ hips up so none of the cum already inside him spills out. He lifts Stiles up until he’s on his tiptoes, hands pressed to the counter and whispers in his Alpha voice,

 

“ _Don’t move_.”

 

Then Derek slams into him in one thrust, and Stiles screams at the suddenness of being full. It doesn’t hurt, but the stretch is extremely present and he feels so full so quickly. Derek uses him, pounds into his ass with no thought to Stiles’ orgasm, and despite this fact Stiles feels himself almost cum a third time, as Derek’s large cock passes over and over his prostate. He feels himself garbling nonsense, hears Derek grumbling an almost constant, sub-vocal growl.

 

Derek cums quickly, pressing Stiles to the counter with one hand on the back of his neck and one keeping his hips tilted up. He groans through it, kisses Stiles tenderly on his shoulder blades as Stiles curses him and begs him in one breath. Then Derek takes the plug and easily slides it back in, petting Stiles down as he recovers from his denied orgasms. When Stiles is no longer calling Derek the most-handsome-cock-blocker-ever-to-cock, Derek takes Stiles by the hand and leads him upstairs.

 

“I know pup, I know. I tried to resist, but you look too good, nearly bursting with my cum.”

 

Stiles looks down and realizes his belly is slightly distended from all their activities. He blushes, and feels himself start to sink back into matespace. He tries to look coy from under his eyelashes, but it’s a hard look to pull off when you’re butt-ass naked and have cum and slick dripping down your thighs.

 

It seems to work for Derek though, because he hurries them along, past the bedroom and to a closed door at the end of the hallway on the second story. As he opens the door, Derek says,

 

“Welcome to our playroom. I want you under the ceiling restraints.”

 

Stiles looks up from the toy land that is the playroom, distracted by the multitude of paddles, swings and benches. In the center of the room he sees two leather cuffs lined by fleece, hanging from the ceiling by strong and expertly knotted black rope.

 

Stiles gulps. He’d like to thank God, Jesus, and any other deity that had anything to do with this. Then he stumbles to obey, coordination difficult as he feels himself sinking further and further down. He raises his arms and sighs when Derek buckles him in, feeling himself float away. Derek kisses him slow and sweet, then roughly, and Stiles just lets him plunder his mouth, passive in his submission.

 

Derek steps back and looks at the paddles on the sides of the wall, then shakes his head.

 

“Just my hands today. We’ll work you up to the others.”

 

After a final brief kiss, Derek confirms vocally that Stiles is green before walking around to his back. Once again he removes the plug, dropping it on the floor, but he leaves the cock ring on. Stiles cares but…he’s starting to sink. Deep, deeper into matespace, into a mindset he could only just taste before their bonding. He’s in tune with Derek, knows his mate can give him what he needs. He feels all resistance, all strength leave his arms. He waits.

 

Derek is grumbling, soft and soothing noises behind him. He nuzzles up Stiles’ spine, leans down again to inhale around Stiles’ hole, where his own scent is still so fresh. Then he reaches down and begins lightly petting Stiles’ ass, smoothing his surprisingly soft hands over Stiles’ ass, occasionally kneading the mounds there. While he’s still kneading the left cheek, he brings his hand back and gives Stiles’ right cheek a testing slap.

 

Stiles moans, pliant body arching itself just slightly. Derek smiles, mesmerized by the pert jiggle of Stiles’ flesh. The faintest shade of pink is there, and suddenly Derek knows he needs his handprints, red and marking Stiles’ flesh. He breathes deep, inhaling his mate’s arousal and scent. There’s something fundamentally different about it, now that they’re mated. It makes Derek almost frenzied, makes him want to protect and kill for his mate. Right now though, right now it makes him want to _claim_.

 

Stiles feels the mood change, but Derek’s hands have lulled him too far into matespace to even be able to brace himself. He feels the second slap hit him and barely has the strength to press back, silently begging for more.

 

“That’s it, present for me. Gorgeous, Stiles, you’re so good for me.”

 

Stiles is rewarded by a quick succession of slaps. He hears himself make a wanton noise, a reedy whine escaping his lips, but he’s sunk too deep to have any semblance of control. He’s given himself completely over to Derek, and he wants only to take whatever his mate will give him.    

 

Derek takes a half-step back and snarls, starts to bring his hands down with intent. He spanks Stiles until he can feel the heat coming from Stiles’ reddened skin, warm and inviting with his hand prints completely visible. Then he raises his arm and slaps again, hearing Stiles cry out and whimper with each press, but his boy has gone completely limp in the cuffs. The complete line of his back is perfect, his posture screaming submission while his red and bruised ass call to Derek, begging to be fucked again. Derek feels his eyes go red, feels his claws come out as he is hit by the need to fill Stiles up.

 

He holds off, and instead levies the hardest slaps yet, knowing they will bruise. Stiles gives a choked off scream then starts shaking, an action he is clearly not in control of. Stiles feels his eyes roll back in his head, and his entire body tenses as yet another orgasm is denied. Then he goes loose again, relaxing as he pants and floats.

 

Derek growls, considers his claws and then slowly, carefully, brings his hand forward. He’s never played with his wolf out like this, but with Stiles he can’t resist. He gently takes Stiles’ hip in his hand, mindful of his claws, but knows he will need to hold Stiles still. His right hand moves to Stiles’ red backside, and begins to trace his claws over the bruised flesh.

 

Stiles immediately jolts, moaning and pressing back, a fresh scent of want washing the air. Then he is pliant again, feeling only the sharp sting on his flesh as Derek’s claws scrape against his ass. Derek is careful not to draw blood, but he presses in hard enough that deep, angry red lines now map Stiles’ body, starting with small ones across the bottom of Stiles’ sensitive cheeks. As Derek moves up, they become longer, winding raised paths that somehow spell out devotion and possession all at once. Stiles is lost, drifting away in matespace, reveling in the love of the bond while his only reality comes to the pinpoint of Derek’s claws on his body. He yearns for the sting, the sharpness of the cut. Derek does not disappoint.

 

Still oh so careful of his claws on Stiles’ hip, Derek moves his other hand up to Stiles’ front. He scratches long treks down towards Stiles’ groin, a road of red claiming his prize. He smells Stiles’ desperation, feels the tremble of his mate beneath his hands. Yet Stiles is obedient, posture wanton yet docile in his arms. He is the prey that begs to be devoured, and Derek will cherish him always.

 

Slowly still, Derek brings his clawed hand to Stiles’ throat, resting firmly yet gently at the base, his claws pricking at Stiles’ neck and shoulder. Stiles feels his mating bite throb, and he begins to tear up at the intensity of the moment. He’s still floating, he can’t come back yet, but he is overwhelmed by the care and adoration that flows through the bond. He keens when Derek adjusts the rope so he can fall forward just slightly, still suspended in air but at the perfect height for Derek to slip in. He wants that, wants Derek to fill him up, wants Derek to _breed him_ full of pups until his stomach is swollen with them, _he wants he wants he wants_ -

 

The bond shifts somehow, and if Stiles weren’t so deep in matespace he would never have sensed it. It’s not in a bad way, instead it feels almost like a new door has been opened. Before Stiles can stop to examine it, Derek is pressing into him, soft and sweet as he murmurs praise,

 

“Still so tight for me, baby. Keeping in all my cum, aren’t you? Want me to breed your sweet cunt nice and good?”

 

Stiles can’t help the gasp of pleasure that leaves his lips, and Derek grins, bringing his claws to Stiles’ lips. With no bidding Stiles begins to lick them, suckling and giving little kitten licks. Derek smiles and sets a slow pace, grinds into Stiles and barely leaves his mate’s suspended body as they sway together. He mouths and bites at the mating mark when he cums, a sensation sweeping through his veins that feels like pleasure and hope. Stiles’ mouth falls open when he feels Derek cum again in him, claws drawing blood for the first time from a tiny nip at Stiles’ lower lip. He’s visibly shaking again, orgasm denied from the cut and from Derek cumming. He’s so deep into matespace he can barely function, only revel in his mate’s touch as he is unbuckled and held. Derek sweeps him into his arms once again and leaves the playroom, heading for the bedroom where the aftercare can begin.

 

“Perfect, my beautiful, wonderful mate. Took your punishment so well, so well. Now I get to reward you.”

 

Stiles can’t respond verbally yet, but he is gradually coming back further to reality. The most he can do now is garble and nod, which he feels is inadequate for how badly he needs to cum. It was at the back of his mind before, but as Derek lays him facedown on the bed and leaves to get aloe, he is overwhelmed all at once by how badly something needs to touch his dick. Like, yesterday.

 

Derek returns to an almost-awakened Stiles. He doesn’t think Stiles will ever be not in matespace anymore when they have sex, but he’s seen enough now to know that there are different levels. He had never seen Stiles go so deep as in the playroom, but the Stiles in the bedroom now is alert enough to talk and beg. Derek meets Stiles’ eyes, stained with tears and begging, but he shakes his head and moves to straddle Stiles’ back.

 

“Aloe first, then your reward. I didn’t cut you anywhere but your lip, but you’re going to be too stiff to do anything tomorrow if I don’t tend to you now.”

 

“Der, D’rek, _please Alpha please_ I can’t, God I need you, let me cum-”

 

“Shhhhhh”

 

Stiles starts to beg again, but his words end in moans as Derek’s strong hands sweep his back, massaging the cool aloe into his skin and making him flop against the bed. He feels like a warm noodle, slowly being cooked under the hotness that is Derek Hale and his magic fingers. He’s still achingly hard, and while the massage is probably making things worse, he never wants it to stop. Derek keeps shushing him through it, makes encouraging noises at other times and occasionally stops to feed Stiles a bit of chocolate from the bedside table. He gives Stiles some good old fashioned TLC, so Stiles figures he can magnanimously forgive him for the no-go situation his dick is experiencing.

 

After several long minutes, Derek calmly asks if Stiles is ready for his reward. He laughs as Stiles springs to life, though since his limbs are so loose it’s like watching a jellyfish learn to walk. Derek gets off him and lays down on the bed, then pulls Stiles up until he is hovering above Derek’s face. It’s almost too good to be true, and Stiles gazes down in wonder and glee. Derek just smirks as he looks up, hands soothingly stroking up and down Stiles’ flank, tracing the lines he’s etched into Stiles’ back.

 

“God Stiles, you smell so good now. You always smell good, but I swear your scent gets more and more alluring to me.”

 

“Christ Derek, _please-_ ”

 

“Alright, sweet boy. I’m going to eat your ass out, and you get to cum as many times as you can while holding yourself up.”

 

Stiles looks to his hands, which Derek has taken within his own and is placing on the headboard for Stiles to grip. Stiles already knows that his limbs are useless after Derek makes him cum, and he whines because Derek’s tongue is also magical and he wants as many orgasms from it as he can get. Planting his knees more firmly, he adjusts his grip and looks down at his lover, shit-eating grin on his face.

 

“Hit me with your best shot, wolfboy.”

 

Derek just raises an eyebrow and snaps off the cock ring on Stiles’ dick (with a bit less care than Stiles would prefer). He hisses as blood immediately starts to flow South, and whimpers because he realizes he’s been edged for a LONG time and he’s going to cum embarrassingly fast. Derek knows this too, because he adjusts himself under Stiles so he’s just below his hole and smugly says,

 

“Ride ‘em, cowboy. Let’s see what you got.”

 

Stiles makes no effort to hide his eagerness, immediately bearing down and crying out in pleasure as Derek grips his hips and pulls him ever closer, tongue immediately slobbering all around his hole. Derek licks teasingly around the rim, moaning at the taste of Stiles’ slick as he slurps and presses open-mouthed kisses to Stiles’ hole. The scent of his mate is most pure here, and Derek is drowning in it. He wastes no time in bringing his mate off, plunges his tongue in and lightly slaps Stiles’ ass.

 

Stiles screams, his voice cutting off as he struggles to breathe through the intensity of his orgasm. It feels like hot, sharp pleasure tears through his body. After being on edge for so long he can barely fathom his release as it is happening, just goes tense all over.

 

Derek licks at him through the whole thing, little kitten licks combined with savoring sounds that make Stiles blush. It sounds like Derek is thoroughly enjoying himself, like Stiles’ ass and juices are the best thing he’s ever tasted. He goes shy and oversensitive all at once, but when he goes to pull away for a break unyielding hands hold his thighs in place. He looks down, body still trembling through aftershocks, at a red-eyed wolf. Glaring, Derek takes Stiles’ oversensitive cock into his mouth and gives a brutal suck, one that has Stiles shouting out in pain.

 

His hands don’t leave the rail though.

 

Derek gives another warning look and suck, then goes back to feasting on Stiles’ hole. His pace is brutal once more, and Stiles feels overwhelmed by his mate’s tongue once again fucking into his hole, his thumbs prodding at his rim. Occasionally Derek will hook just the tip on his thumb into Stiles along with his tongue, and Stiles will try and grind down to get both of them fully in.

 

Stiles cums too soon a second time when Derek’s thumb finally breaches him, and he starts to cry a little bit from the overstimulation.

 

Derek grumbles soothingly below him, and Stiles arches away from the pleasure that sensation creates. Derek holds him down though, starts to work his index finger in beside his tongue. Stiles is babbling at this point, feels the cum that was in him start to trickle out a bit, but Derek just keeps going. He moans when he first tastes himself and Stiles together, and renews his efforts, going almost feral in his enthusiasm. He licks and sucks, finger probing in too fast yet not fast enough, until he crooks it in just the right spot and-

 

Stiles wails, cumming so hard his vision blacks out. He collapses, or would have if Derek wasn’t fast enough. Derek catches him, scrambles to behind him on the bed, laying him gently on his side as Stiles shakes and gasps. Derek lines up and then plunges back into his mate’s heat, cumming with a raspy roar in one thrust. He feels his knot begin to swell and makes a questioning whine in the back of his throat, but Stiles just tilts his hips up in invitation so Derek pumps his hips a few more times before locking his knot within Stiles.

 

Stiles is crying quietly now, the intensity of the day and scenes finally getting to him. Derek strokes him, tells him how good he is, how perfect. He rolls until he is sure his knot is pressing against Stiles’ prostate, and tenderly cups Stiles’ cock in his hand until he cums a final time. Stiles sighs and drifts off to sleep in Derek’s arms, leaving his rumbling wolf to spread his own cum on Stiles’ nipples and chest. He’s so unbelievably full, his stomach rounded from all the cum Derek’s pumped into him, yet he’s never been more sated or content.

 

He falls asleep with Derek almost purring, his hands stroking his slightly distended belly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK AT THAT SUBTLE-ASS FORESHADOWING.
> 
> I'll try to update soon y'all! More smut and feels on the way.


	8. Insecurities & Afternoon Strolls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re the beat of my heart. When it stills, it has returned home to you.”
> 
>  
> 
> Stiles swallows through the lump in his throat, and says,
> 
>  
> 
> “Same.”
> 
>  
> 
> ***ADDITIONAL TAG WARNING- DUBIOUS CONSENT***
> 
> Some people have found the first scene in this fic to read as having non-con, though that is not the intention. It is a sort of BDSM scene that has no check ins, and Derek is rougher with an angry Stiles. Stiles does not give express permission, but it is implied.

When Stiles wakes up again, it’s late afternoon. The sun is about to set on this, the most epic day of sexual experiences.  Stiles groans and stretches, feeling a tingle of excitement from the soreness on his ass.  His actual asshole feels well-used but not painful, but his ass…Stiles can feel the bruises that formed.  He hisses a bit as he feels them pull at his skin, and just like that he’s ready to go again.  He lazily reaches back for Derek and his Gordian-Knot-of-Pleasure, but…

 

Nothing.  Stiles is all too suddenly wide awake.  Derek isn’t there.  Flailing around, Stiles rolls over to discover an empty bed. 

 

Derek’s side isn’t even warm.

 

Stiles feels his heart start to beat too fast. What if Derek left? What if he woke up and realized the mistake he made, claiming a spastic nerd for a mate?  Visions swim before Stiles’ eyes- Derek lamenting his choice to some bimbo at a bar, laughing at Stiles and his neediness. He fights them back, chokes down his panic and untangles himself from the sheets.

 

He takes a moment to steady himself when he gets up, the floor spinning before him.  He doesn’t bother to dress, stumbling towards the door.  The ache on his ass cheeks, the sting of the cold air on the claw marks on his skin- what just moments ago filled him with desire now fuels his despair.  When Stiles reaches the door he’s shaking a bit, but he’s determined to at least search the house before he draws any conclusions.

 

The first floor is empty, but there is a full pot of coffee brewing from what looks to be an expensive and complicated coffee machine. Stiles decides it’s the first thing he’s going to smash if Derek’s left him.  Further exploration away from the kitchen and it’s breakables leads to a door and downward steps.  Stiles pauses before starting his descent, praying this isn’t where Derek keeps his collection of every toenail he’s ever clipped.  Or his Nickleback memorabilia.  Either way.

 

The basement is brighter than Stiles was anticipating- it’s a light blue color, with a comfy couch and a huge workbench. There are various tools surrounding the area, but what isn’t clearly a work area has huge, patterned throw rugs. It looks like a great place to get relax and get some manly work done, but Stiles doesn’t care about the brightly colored rugs- he’s found Derek.

 

Derek, who’s sipping on his coffee and whittling away at something on the bench.  Derek, who clearly has NO idea about how much trouble he’s in- assuming he still counts Stiles being mad at him as trouble.

 

Derek, who’s pretty surprised when Stiles bear tackles him from behind.  The hug Stiles gives is one part relief and two parts clinging monkey.  Derek chuffs out a laugh and pulls himself out of Stiles embrace, moving to turn around.

 

Derek’s extremely surprised by the look of betrayal and teary eyes on his mate’s face.  When he reaches out toward the mate bond, he’s smacked in the face with hurt, anger and…despair.  His wolf whines, unsure as to what could have upset his mate so badly.

 

“Stiles, baby what- what happened?  Are you alright?”

 

“Am I- Am _I_ alright?  I don’t know Derek, since I woke up this morning and you were gone!  No goodbye note, no “thanks that was great let’s stay in touch” text, nothing!  I didn’t know you where you were- who the _fuck_ taught you aftercare?”

 

Anger, apparently, is the emotion Stiles has chosen to voice.  Derek feels himself respond to the emotion being jammed through the bond, and he realizes in the back of his mind that this _might_ be a problem in the future.  He opens his mouth anyway.

 

“Where the hell would I go, Stiles? We’re tied together now- we literally die if we sever the bond.  Did you think you were THAT bad of a lay, I’d try to kill myself over it?”

 

“ _FUCK YOU_ ” Stiles screams, and for a brief instant the only thing Derek feels through the bond is bone-deep insecurity.  It morphs his anger, channeling it into frustration and a need to prove to his mate how much he needs him, how unbelievably sexy he is.  But that’s not what he thinks that Stiles needs right now- a soft scene with loving touches and whispered praise.  He thinks he needs to show his mate how irresistible he is in an entirely different manner.

 

Derek snarls at Stiles and effortless grabs the hand that’s poised to slap him.  He jerks Stiles closer with his grip, fiercely twisting his arm behind his back while his other hand goes down to roughly handle Stiles’ bruised cheeks. Stiles thrashes and squirms, trying in earnest to kick and claw his way out of the situation. Derek just lets him fight it a bit, takes advantage of Stiles’ wrenching movements to rub his body all over Stiles’ own.  He’s shirtless and in comfortable cotton yoga pants, and he knows Stiles feels his erection through the thin material.

 

Derek starts to bite Stiles then- hard, bruising presses of teeth to flesh, and they make Stiles briefly stop and shudder all over before he’s back to fighting.  He hates it, hates how Derek can wreck him this easily.  Hates how Derek can just pull him into his arms and his body wants to yield to his mate.  He can already feel the slick starting to pour out of him, knows it’s only a matter of time before he’s dripping with it.

 

Derek inhales and rumbles his approval, feels himself start to lose control, his wolf screaming at him to convince their mate of their desire for his form.  He pushes a still-squirming Stiles towards the couch, still focused on pressing and rubbing them together whenever possible.  Their frottage is angry and almost competitive, and Stiles begins to bite back.  He sinks his teeth in deep wherever he can, but Derek just grins manically when the bites heal. Barely any blood comes out, but Stiles finds he loves the taste of copper on his tongue.

 

“That’s it, want to mark me Stiles? It’s a calling, isn’t it? The need to mark something as your own.”

 

Derek mouths at Stiles’ mating bite as he utters these words, and Stiles moans before viciously sinking his teeth into Derek’s shoulder.  He won’t be distracted so easily.

 

“You can bite anything, _mate_.” Stiles says the word viciously, like an insult.  Worse- like it’s a promise he doesn’t believe.  Derek roars, so loud Stiles has to arch away from the sound.  The fine arc of his body leaves him exposed, and Derek takes the opportunity to roughly throw him down on the couch, quickly covering Stiles’ body with his own.  He shoves one leg up, bent at the knee, the other he throws over his shoulder. Then he’s shoving into Stiles in one long thrust.

 

Stiles screams not only at the suddenness of the intrusion, but the instant connection he feels to Derek through their mating bond. He didn’t realize Derek had been shutting himself off to Stiles until he was once again connected. Now though- now he feels everything.

 

Derek’s arousal is first and foremost. The sheer overwhelming _need_ his mate feels for him sends Stiles into a fit of wild pleasure; he bucks his hips and arches his back, digs his nails in as he begs Derek verbally and physically to fuck him. Derek’s already pistoning into him hard and brutally fast- Stiles can feel his balls smacking his ass with every thrust.  But it’s not enough, he needs to feel it, needs to feel not just Derek’s desire but Derek’s _love_ for him.

 

He needs to feel wanted.

 

So he fights it.  Tries to get away from his mate, even as they are fitted together. He cannot get any leverage in his current position, but he uses the power of Derek’s thrusts to wiggle away and up the couch.  Derek only digs in and snaps his hips harder, until they are both in danger of falling off the couch.  With a frustrated snarl Derek shoves deep into his mate, then digs his nails into Stiles’ neck. They’re sharp enough to keep Stiles in place as he wrestles them to the floor, where he can better pin his struggling mate.  Stiles becomes frantic when he realizes he has nowhere to go, no way to escape from the pleasure coursing through him.  Derek grins at his mate below him, feral and triumphant as Stiles glares back up. Derek leans down to viciously whisper to his mate,

 

“You can’t get away from me, Stiles- wherever you go, I’ll find you.  We’re bound now, I’ll- fuck, I’ll find you and remind you who you belong to.  You’re mine, my beautiful mate, mine-”

 

Stiles whimpers and starts shaking his head, looking up at Derek with simultaneously disbelieving and pleading eyes. Derek’s heart surges in his chest, and while his pace grows frenzied he leans down to nuzzle gently at his mate’s face and neck, eventually settling on licking at the mating mark.

 

“Always, always mine.  And I’m yours, Stiles.  Forever, _I love you.”_

 

Stiles wails at that and finally clings to Derek, meeting his thrusts at long last.  Derek moans softly in victory and thrusts in one last time, knot swelling quicker than it ever has and locking them together.  Stiles’ eyes roll back in his head as he cums suddenly and without warning, untouched but for the friction Derek’s abs provide to his leaking cock.  Derek bites him again as he cums too, body going tense before he slumps over, fully covering his mate.

 

Derek doesn’t stop his affections while they are rendered mostly immobile.  He pets Stiles, holds him close and murmurs endearments into his ear.  He doesn’t stop kissing Stiles, little pecks and deep, longing lip locks while trying with futile motions to press himself further into his mate.  Eventually Stiles recovers enough of his brain cells to talk, and the first thing he croaks is,

 

“Why’d you shut the bond off?”

 

Derek looks chagrined and keeps kissing Stiles, keening low and wolflike.  Stiles is having none of it, though his mate does look adorable (this will probably work 100% of the time on Stiles when he’s not completely fucked out). He just raises his unimpressed eyebrows and waits for Derek to break.  Finally Derek sighs and says,

 

“I meant to be back upstairs before you woke up. I was making you a present.”

 

Stiles instantly perks up at this.  Whatever, he’s a kid at heart.  Also, the day you stop getting excited over presents is the day you should just give up on life.  However, this excited feeling is quickly replaced by embarrassment.

 

“I maaaaayyy have overreacted.  Can we chalk this up to the volatile honeymoon phase of the whole mating process?”

 

Derek shakes his head vehemently.  He then proceeds to make some of the most intense eye-contact Stiles has EVER been on the receiving end of, saying,

 

“I’ll never leave you, Stiles.”

 

He then takes Stiles’ hand and places it over his heart, continuing,

 

“You’re the beat of my heart.  When it stills, it has returned home to you.”

 

Stiles swallows through the lump in his throat, and says,

 

“Same.”

 

Derek’s unimpressed eyebrows are much more impressive than Stiles’. Stiles flounders, struggling to remember an old saying his mom used to tell him,

 

“I- I mean, me too!  I mean- shit, what was it…”

 

The eye contact is making it hard to think. But Stiles finally does pull it together enough to declare, while placing Derek’s hand on his heart,

 

“ _Ta mo chroi istigh ionat._   My heart is in you.”

 

Derek smiles then, shy and sweet, and Stiles blushes at the look of pure adoration that he is given.  He presses a quick kiss to Derek’s nose and nuzzles Derek, once again falling a bit more in love with his Alpha.  After awhile though, he breaks away and says,

 

“So….present?”

 

Derek chuffs and checks where they are tied together, and eventually deems them ready.  Stiles sighs in contentment when he feels Derek’s cum oozing down his legs, combined with his own slick.  He loves the feeling of being wet, though as he is gingerly helped to his feet he does sympathize with his female friends- this can get messy.

 

Derek leads him over to the bench, then stops and turns around, arms hiding something behind his back.

 

“Will you kneel for me, Stiles?”

 

Stiles’ heart beats faster, and he smoothly drops to the floor, eyes never leaving Derek’s own.  Derek smiles at him and then reveals his present-

 

A simple black cuff.  It’s made from Derek’s belt, the one they had their first bondage play with.  The first tangible piece of evidence of their dynamic together, besides the bite on Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles feels himself tear up, and has to do breathing control exercises when Derek drops to the floor with him. He gently lifts Stiles’ left wrist in his hand, then raises the cuff to eye level.

 

“I want to make you a collar later. But this you can wear anywhere, a reminder you can show to the world.  In this-”

 

And here Derek pulls another matching cuff from out of nowhere, and Stiles grins at his sneaky wolf.  The cuff is the same, but has the buckle on it.

 

“-In this, we are always equals.  When we play, when we scene, when we are just normal. We are always partners.”

 

Stiles grins and makes a grabbing motion with his hand, making Derek smile and place the cuff on his eager boyfriend’s wrist. Stiles then does the same to Derek, grinning like a loon and pressing soft kisses on his face the entire time. They’re both smiling like idiots at each other, kneeling naked on a concrete floor in a basement.

 

Idiots in love.

 

\---------------------

 

Derek shows Stiles how to shut off the bond after a hearty and filling dinner of steak and mac n’ cheese.

 

(“This is a sin to pair the meat with this Kraft monstrosity”  “Just- shut up and eat your neon orange goodness, Derek”).

 

Stiles meeps loudly when he succeeds and quickly rushes back to turn the bond back on.  Derek frowns and shushes him, presses a kiss to his temple and tells him it’s alright.

 

“It felt different for me too, that time. It felt…not right. Don’t do it again.”

 

“I wasn’t the one who did it in the first place, dickweed!”

 

“Just…don’t.”

 

Stiles huffs and agrees readily, but Derek can’t help but feel he’s missing something.  Stiles’ scent has been changing all day, growing more and more potent with…Derek can’t name it.  But it makes him want to hold Stiles close and not let go, makes him want to pamper him and shower him with presents.  It’s what led him down to the basement this afternoon.  He wants to provide for his mate, he wants…

 

Derek stands abruptly, pulling Stiles with him.

 

“Come on, we’re going for a walk in the woods.”

 

\--------------------

 

30 minutes later, Derek has dressed Stiles in a red hoodie and jeans, himself in some sweatpants and a tighter black tee. The reason becomes readily apparent as they step about 50 feet into the forest- Derek sheds his clothes with the glee of a little kid, and Stiles laughs loud and free as his mate changes into a wolf with the cracking of bones and a howl.

 

Derek’s wolf form is gorgeous, and huge. He comes to Stiles’ armpit, coarse black fur that feels tough and yields under Stiles’ hand. The wolf arches and preens under Stiles’ touches, and Stiles spends a happy hour rubbing and petting the wolf, figuring out all the spots that make Derek grumble something akin to a purr.  The upper and lower parts of his belly are sensitive, as are his entire ears.  He also enjoys having his paws rubbed, and Stiles is careful to press everywhere, even stroking the sharp claws on each paw. His wolf looks dazed by the end, almost drunk off the affection.  Stiles doubts anyone that isn’t family or pack has touched Derek in this form.

 

Derek bounds off soon enough, and they make a game out of hide n’ seek.  Except in this version, Stiles goes and runs and hides, then Derek finds him with no problem with some sort of weird wolfy gift-

 

A big stick:

 

“Wow, Derek, wanna play fetch?  OK, OK, geez!  Down boy, I’m sorry, I’m impressed by your massive stick. It’s sooooo big and hard- ACK! No licking, no licking!”

 

A pretty amethyst rock: 

 

“Ooooooo shiny.  My precioooosssss- AHHH I’ll stop, I’ll stop I’m sorry, that tickles!”

 

A rabbit: 

 

“What.  The.  FUCK DEREK!!”

 

Derek pouts a bit after the rabbit- well, as much as he can in wolf form.  It takes a lot of cajoling on Stiles part, plus a few extra belly rubs, to be forgiven. It’s only after Stiles awkwardly pats the bloody bunny carcass that the wolf seems satisfied.

 

His mate is such a weirdo.

 

Derek ends their adventures by running through the woods, leading a laughing Stiles as he tries to catch the wolf’s tail. He never even comes close, but the feeling of running with a wolf is exhilarating enough. Derek is all power and grace, an apex predator with a surprisingly fluffy tail.  Stiles finally grasps the very tip of it when they burst through the clearing by the house, and Derek transforms effortlessly back into his gorgeous human self.  He smiles again at Stiles, looking younger and freer than Stiles has ever seen him, and Stiles grins back as he pants from their little run.

 

“My wolf adores you.”  Derek says, and Stiles laughs at his proud tone.

 

“Duh, I’m a hunk-a-hunk-a-burning-mate here.”

 

“You weren’t afraid, not once.”

 

Stiles rolls his eyes and gives his mate a filthy kiss, reaching down to cup Derek’s naked sex. Derek bucks into his touch, and he pulls away with regret.

 

“Inside.  I have plans for you…and the rest of your outfit.”

 

Stiles doesn’t need to be told twice.

 

\-------------------------

 

Derek tells Stiles to take off his jeans and hoodie, then stand facing the glass window on the second floor.  It’s a large, circular window that illuminates the whole hallway during the daytime.  The sun is just finishing it’s descent past the horizon, and the last touches of light trace the woods.  Stiles can see his reflection in the glass, growing clearer and clearer as darkness comes and the moon rises.  He feels himself starting to slip into his calm, floating space again.  He stands patiently in front of the window, unseeing and bare to the world except for one article of clothing.

 

Red satin panties.  String bikini cut, elegantly simple and stretching around his half-hard cock.  Derek had given them to him without a word before their walk, and Stiles had let out a squeal of delight before slipping them on.

 

Derek returns quickly, and Stiles presses his hips back minutely when he senses his presence.  Derek hums in approval and slides his hand up and down Stiles’ flank, raising goosebumps over his flesh while sending shivers down his spine. His ass is leaking heavily now, and he can feel his hole start to clench on air.  He’s sure you can see the wetness through the panties, and he’s glad for it- his mate should know what he does to him.

 

Derek slips on his own leather jacket over Stiles’ shoulders, and Stiles feels himself drop deeper.  He leans back into the touch, surrounded by the smell of leather and the musk of his mate.  Derek kisses the back of his neck and gently presses him forward, bending Stiles so his arms are braced on the windowpanes. Derek then leans over Stiles’ prone form, inhaling deep and growling at the scent of the two of them mixed together.

 

“Everyone will know, now.  They’ll smell it on me, that I’m yours.”

 

Stiles gives a breathy moan at that, finally without doubt in Derek’s word.  Derek smiles softly before easing into his mate in an agonizingly slow push. Stiles doesn’t try for more, just lets himself be opened gently by Derek’s large cock.  Derek’s hand comes around from Stiles’ hip to his front, and he rests it on Stiles’ belly as he continues to thrust slowly, intimately.

 

He claims his mate in sure, slow, gentle strokes. Stiles is whimpering constantly, awash in a sea of pleasure and love as he feels his mates’ cock pressing into him with such tender regard.

 

He feels like a prize, decorated and on display for the world to see- Derek Hale’s mate, his Alpha’s partner.  He opens his eyes and sees the moon, and his eyes flash in it’s light.

 

“ _Look at us. Bless our perfect union.”_ He thinks, before he feels Derek grip him tightly and press his knot into Stiles, moaning low and brokenly as he cums.

 

When Stiles cums it feels like sinking, being swallowed by the sensation of pleasure and belonging.  The moon shines bright above them, and Stiles bares his throat to it and his Alpha sinks down, surrendering to their pull.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorrrryyyy I know this has been a bit of a wait! I started law school recently- updates on everything will be longer, but I am trying!
> 
> As always, feel free to leave suggestions below! I'm especially curious about what y'all want Stiles' collar to look like.
> 
> Follow me on tumblr!
> 
> http://versus21.tumblr.com


	9. Meet the Packers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You knocked me up, you son of a bitch!”
> 
>  
> 
> “Do I…do I shoot him, son?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience! School has been crazy, but I know exactly what I want for the final chapter so hopefully that gets done soon!
> 
> Shout out again to all the support and comments I've received. Y'all are awesome.

The remaining weeks of their vacation/mating honeymoon pass by in a blur of sex, hugs & cock and hole.  Derek bites Stiles on the hand when he makes that pun, but Stiles can’t bring himself to care.  Every day their bond had grown stronger, and Stiles feels like he’s glowing with it.

 

Although that might just be the copious amounts of cum Derek has rubbed onto his skin.  Derek’s gotten very…territorial of late.  Stiles has never had a more attentive dom or partner, and even Derek seems surprised by the amount of care he gives Stiles. Derek will spank, paddle, spread, tie down and fuck Stiles until he is an incoherent mess, then spend the next few hours cuddling him and pressing tender kisses onto his body. While Stiles knows it’s not entirely PC to revel in the almost obsessive attention, he chalks it up to the newly formed mating bond. 

 

It’s also easier to roll his eyes at Derek than to admit he preens under the attention, that he feels more at home in their cabin in the woods than he has anywhere else.  It’s easier to blame Derek’s sexy stubble for the almost constant kisses he peppers Derek with, easier to blame Derek’s past for the near constant hugs he gives Derek.

 

Seriously, the man should be hugged every second. He has an astonishing amount of man pain. 

 

Stiles also feels _safe_ with Derek, which is amazing considering the bruises that littered his ass that one time he came without permission.  As if it was his fault!  Derek had used a spreader bar and bent him over a breeding bench, promising to fill him with pups after Stiles had _begged him to_ -

 

Their dirty talk has gotten weird lately. Well, not weird, as it’s clearly working for them, but Stiles can’t remember ever having a breeding kink before.  Something else Derek has awakened in him, besides a serious appreciation for leather. Speaking of….

 

“Are those leather driving gloves?”

 

Derek’s eyes don’t move from the road, but Stiles sees his eyebrows are amused by this observation.

 

“This is a beautiful car, Stiles.  It deserves to be handled with finesse.”

 

“You’re making me jealous.”

 

“Would you like me to handle you with these gloves? I could finger you open with them, have you suck my leather-clad fingers into your mouth.  Would you be satisfied then?”

 

“Is…is that a serious question?”

 

Derek smirks, and Stiles loves that smirk. That’s Derek’s Sexual-Fantasy-Filed-Away-For-Later-Smirk, and it’s easily in Stiles’ Top 3 Derek Hale Facial Expressions.

 

The first is the soft smile Derek gives when he hears Stiles say ‘I love you’, or after they scene.

 

The second is Derek’s more dangerous “Dom face”, which is 3 parts predator, 2 parts master-&-commander.  Stiles is going to have a troubling reaction to danger in the future, he just knows it.

 

Sighing, Stiles turns his eyes to the highway. Derek told him it was a 45 minute ride back to Stiles’ apartment, and Stiles feels every one of those minutes acutely as they leave their paradise on Earth.   He’s kind of excited to go back- his Dad will be waiting for them with Melissa McCall to celebrate the new mating. Apparently, Scott and Melissa have been planning a little surprise party for them at Stiles’ place. Which sounds great, he misses his Dad and his friends, he does!  He just…. It feels weird to be going back.  The rational part of him knows why they’re returning, but the other part of his brain (that looks suspiciously like his dick) is demanding that he bats his eyelashes at his Alpha until Derek turns this car around and heads back into the woods.

 

It’s been kind of a crazy ride.  One of the things keeping him going is the ongoing bet with Scott about when his Dad and Ms. McCall will finally get together, and Scott and he can make this bromance official.  If it’s at this party, then Stiles wins $500 and the right to make the toast at the wedding.  High stakes indeed.

 

Also, Derek says he’ll officially collar him after the party.  Stiles is REALLY excited for that.  And to meet the pack as the official Alpha mate too, of course.  But come on, it’s all about the collar.

 

“Not even a hint about what it looks like?” He asks Derek for the up-teenth time, batting his eyelashes for good measure.

 

“It’s circular in shape.”

 

“Ha fucking ha, Derek.”

 

Derek chuckles a bit, but Stiles feels a bit of apprehension go through the bond.  He’s insisted they keep it open after their last incident- no surprise is worth the panic Stiles feels when it goes off, and he knows Derek shares this sentiment. It’s a low hum in the background of his mind, and Stiles only consciously gets a handle on Derek’s emotions when there’s a sudden shift.  Derek’s much more in tune with Stiles, but he has been assured that’s because Derek’s already a supernatural being.  It’s apparently incredibly impressive Stiles can feel anything at all, as most humans don’t.  But whatever, Stiles is awesome, and he takes full advantage of this power to call his Alpha out.

 

“Relax grumpy cat, I’m gonna love it, no matter what it is.”

 

Derek scowls at the nickname, and shakes his head.

 

“It’s not that.  I just…it’s hard leaving the cabin.  I know it’s safe there, and I don’t like moving you to the city.”

 

Stiles raises his eyebrows.  “Is that why we’ve been driving at a snail’s pace? Seriously, I saw a bus full of nuns pass us.”

 

“Ha fucking ha, Stiles.  My wolf’s been going crazy, it needs you secure and safe.  So we’re going the speed limit.  And those nuns were driving like maniacs.  Seriously, where was the holy fire?”

 

Stiles laughs at this, happy to see Derek make any kind of joke.  His laughter is almost partially relieved though, as he too feels shaky about returning to the outside world.  He can’t quite explain why, but he’s hoping it’s just part of the new mating bond.

 

They arrive at Stiles’ loft on schedule, which is a small miracle considering how slowly Derek took the residential roads (seriously, Stiles saw kids on bikes passing them).  When they finally slow-crawl to a halt, Stiles is bounding out of the car because he sees-

 

“Dad!”

 

The Sheriff laughs and eagerly accepts his son’s bear hug, returning the embrace with equal amounts of squeezing. Stiles is ecstatic, as he hasn’t seen his father since Christmas.  He also can’t wait to introduce-

 

“Derek!”

 

Stiles steps back, smiling way too eagerly and gesturing at Derek like a showgirl on The Price Is Right.  So sue him, he’s bagged a hottie.  He wants the recognition of essentially winning the gold medal in the Men’s Mating Category.

 

“Dad, Derek.  Derek, Dad.  Or Sheriff, if you’re feeling frisky.”

 

“I most decidedly am not.”

 

“He most decidedly is.  I’m Sheriff Stilinski to the men who mate my son without so much as a Sunday dinner at my house.”

 

Stiles nearly squeals in glee.  He’s never seen his mate look so mortified, and he’s not-so-secretly thrilled with how his Alpha is trying to play the remorseful son-in-law to his father.  He knows for a fact Derek regrets exactly zero parts of their mating, and that his mate would pretend otherwise is touching.  He knows how much Stiles adores his remaining parent, and looking at how amused the Sheriff is by Derek’s internal struggle, it’s not hard to see why.  The Stilinski men stick together, and Stiles has always known exactly how lucky he is to have a dad as cool and understanding as the Sheriff.

 

“I’m- I’m sorry about that, Sheriff, sir. We were… pressed for time.”

 

“Hornier than a couple of virgins on prom night is more like it.”

 

Stiles takes everything back.  His Dad is an awful person who needs to go home right now.

 

“WOW, Dad.  I’ll pick you out the nicest nursing home, I promise.”

 

“No need.  Got the prettiest nurse in the world on my arm.”

 

Melissa McCall makes her entrance right on cue, coming up to hug Stiles as he really does squeal in glee when he sees the ring on her finger.  Those tricky dicks, he and Scott hadn’t had a clue they were dating.

 

“Congrats!  But seriously, Melissa, you can do better.”

 

“I keep telling her that, she seems stuck on me.” The Sheriff chuckles, and Melissa elbows him lightly in the ribs while looking over Derek with an appraising eye.

 

“Wow, Stiles.  Did you make this one in a factory?”

 

Derek’s blushing even more now, and Stiles slings an arm around his waist.  The contact calms his mate, and hey, Stiles gets to have some eye candy by his side.

 

“He rescued me.  He’s my prince charming.  With fur.”

 

The Sheriff seems to regard Derek with a sense of approval at that, and fires off a series of quick questions that Derek answers just as tersely. 

 

“Alpha?”

 

“Yessir.”

 

“Healthy pack?”

 

“Yessir.”

 

“How many?”

 

“Four, sir.”

 

“Room for Stiles, Scott and Alison?”

 

“Yessir.”

 

“Rescued from Aiden?”

 

“Yessir.”

 

The last answer has a bit of a growl to it, and Stiles is proud that Derek doesn’t wolf out a bit, given his protective nature the past couple of days.  The Sheriff nods and seems satisfied, then offers to help carry the bags in. Derek magnanimously allows him to handle one bag, and watches as Stiles enters the apartment first with Melissa.  The Sheriff ambles along, and Derek knows if he wanted to, he’d be bounding up the steps to see his son some more.  Which means they’re going to talk.

 

“So, Derek, I’ve seen your file.”

 

Derek feels his spine stiffen.  He doesn’t like people knowing about Kate, doesn’t want their pity.  He’d never volunteered that information outside of pack and Stiles before, and the idea of another powerful influence in Stiles’ life having that kind of knowledge doesn’t sit right with him.

 

“Easy there, just wanted you to know I know. Melissa doesn’t, I figured that’s your business to tell.  There is something you should know though, something I don’t think Stiles has quite figured out yet.  Probably still waxing poetical about your eyebrows or something.”

 

Derek should blush about the reference to Stiles’ first post-mating phone call to his father (in hindsight, 69’ing and knotting Stiles’ mouth beforehand had not been his brightest move).  He should, but he’s too interested to hear about the one thing Stiles seems not to know.

 

“Scott’s mate, Alison.  Her last name is Argent.”

 

Derek feels the breath leave his lungs, and he’s hit with an overwhelming sense to find Stiles and shield him from this girl. The Sheriff had strategically positioned himself in front of Derek on the stairs though, and Derek won’t push aside the man on their first meeting.  He does let loose a fearsome snarl, which brings a stern look from over the Sheriff’s shoulder.

 

“NONE of that.  She’s a good girl, not connected in any way to her crazy aunt and company.  She left a good portion of her family behind to be with Scott.  Leaving your kin isn’t easy, especially when that kin are hunters.”

 

Derek can feel that his eyes are still red, but he’s comforted by the stern yet understanding tone in the Sheriff’s voice. He gives the Sheriff a curt nod.

 

“I’ll reserve judgment.  That’s the most I can promise.”

 

The Sheriff nods in return and picks up his pace, and Derek wills his heart to calm down.  He just has to make it through the party, and then he can talk to Stiles about this Argent business.

 

He just won’t talk to her in the interim.

 

\-----------------------

 

“So, I hear my wife’s zealous aunt was terrible to you.”

 

Derek sighs and gives into the temptation to bang his head against the cabinet.  He escaped the relatively cramped living room to get some solitude in the kitchen. All he wanted was a nice beer, but apparently Scott thought this was a good time to have a talk. Why does everyone want to talk to him today?

 

And it had been going so well.  Uncle Peter wasn’t being too creepy, the Argent girl was obviously of no danger to Stiles.  Derek’s been around enough evil Argents to know when one is even halfway decent, and this girl fits the bill.  He’s a still cautious, but he can already tell that will fade in time. Even Erica has kept her hands off his mate- for the most part.

 

Deaton was being a little more… Deaton-y than usual. He kept staring at Stiles too intently, but Derek was chalking that up to his emissary duty of inspecting the mating bond.  Although shouldn’t he be looking at Stiles neck where the claiming bite was, and not his stomach?

 

“I met Kate once.”

 

That snaps Derek back to the conversation. It also causes him to break his glass in his hand, sending shards of glass to go everywhere. He quickly wills a feeling of “it’s fine” through the bond before glaring at Scott, who has the decency to look sheepish.

 

“She said werewolves made the perfect throw rugs. I hadn’t been turned at the time, I was really young.  But I never liked that kinda talk, so I said that wasn’t nice.  She grabbed my arm tightly and started …whispering these horrible things to me, and I got so scared I had an asthma attack.”

 

Derek’s eyebrows shoot up, and he makes the “I’m listening” gesture with his head while picking out glass bits from his hand.

 

“Stiles ran right over with my inhaler. We were really young, like I said. 5, maybe 6.  But somehow he knew what she’d done, even though she was acting all concerned.  He kicked her in the shin.  Hard.”

 

Derek smiles at that, at the bravery of his mate even as a child.

 

“Look, I know you won’t trust me about Alison. But you seem to trust Stiles, so let me assure you that he’s never kicked her in the shin.  Which has been great, cause I was kind of worried he wouldn’t like her at first.  We were kinda all each other had growing up, and then this girl comes along and she’s my mate, not to mention this whole werewolf thing was happening. He’s been incredible throughout it all though, cause that’s the kind of person he is.  Loyal to a fault to his friends.  And Alison’s his friend.  He deemed her worthy of me.  So hopefully that says more than I ever could.”

 

Derek nods and finishes picking out the last of the glass, just in time for Stiles to appear in the doorway.

 

“Enough bonding time in here, or do you two need a few minutes?  Also you can’t have a few minutes, Deaton says he needs to talk to us about something. Perhaps about why he’s been staring at my stomach like an Alien is gonna pop out.”

 

Scott laughs and takes his cue, giving Derek a smile that makes him look like an adorable puppy while stealing the last of the rum. Derek might know why Scott has already made the pack fall in love with him.  That smile could end the war in the Middle East.

 

Isaac seems to be especially taken with Scott and his lovely lady…Derek isn’t going to dwell on that.

 

Scott is ushered out while Deaton walks in, a calm smile on his face. 

 

“Congratulations on your successful mating, Alpha Hale. Your home pack sends their best wishes, your mother especially.”

 

“Awwww I knew you were a momma’s boy.”

 

“Speaking of mothers, Mr. Stilinski, I have reason to believe yours had some kind of wolf ancestry herself.  Given that you are carrying the Alpha’s child.”

 

“………..What.”

 

\--------------------------------

 

All hell breaks loose after that.

 

Turns out his Betas are all eavesdroppers, the nosey pricks.  Turns out both his new father-in-law and mate are confused and alarmed by the news. And the fact that Derek and Stiles’ love is “so pure that the Moon has blessed them with their most fervid wish”. It _also_ turns out that Stiles’ mother must have had some sort of pure wolf lineage in her bloodline, because Stiles was receptive enough to the mating magic to be imbued with some of the qualities of an Omega male werewolf. Turns out-

 

“You knocked me up, you son of a bitch!”

 

“Do I…do I shoot him, son?”

 

Derek knows he should be panicking. Really, that is the proper response to this scenario.  But all he can do is stare awkwardly at Stiles belly as new hope and love awaken within him. He doesn’t know his pups yet, but they’ll be a part of Stiles and him, and that’s all that matters. He gets to have backyard barbeques, play-dates, growling at the prom dates, movie nights with pups that smell like him and Sitles and pack.  He can’t believe he gets to have a _family_.

 

He grabs his mate mid-rant and presses an honest, heart-wrenchingly earnest kiss to his mouth, holding Stiles close to him. He tries to pour every promise he could possibly make about how he’ll protect their family, how he can’t wait to grow old with Stiles and watch their children flourish.  He presses his mate to him and tries to spell out his love through his body, hands gripping tightly while his mouth desperately seeks his mate’s taste, potent and perfect to him.  He keeps his eyes closed when he finally breaks the kiss, lips tingling and mind filled with an immeasurably brightened future.

 

“ _Thank you, my heart_.” He whispers to Stiles, who immediately tears up.  He places his hand above Stiles’ heart, and Stiles returns the gesture.

 

“Of course, you’re excited about this. You’re not the one who’s going to swell up like a balloon and have to waddle through day-to-day life. Oh my god, what am I going to tell work?”

 

“You can join cyber crimes for a bit! Work with Danny in the basement, he’s dating a kanima so he’ll be cool.”

 

“….Hey, thanks Scott.”

 

“I have good ideas too, you know!”

 

Derek chuffs at that, ignores the rest of the chatter that goes on amongst the pack as they congratulate and speculate about the future pack puppies.  The Sheriff is still clearly in shock, but Melissa is holding his hand and gently reminding him he left his gun in the car.  Derek doesn’t care though, as his mate cuddles in close to him as he whispers back,

 

“ _My heart is in you, Alpha.”_

 

\-------------------------

 

After being shown some enlightening and frightening diagrams by Deaton (who has those just waiting around in the car?), the pack eventually wanders out into the wee hours of the morning.  Derek marvels at how easily he can consider the newcomers pack- Scott, the Sheriff, Melissa, and even Alison. 

 

Alison, who’s giggling as she escorts a grinning Scott and smirking Isaac out of their apartment by their hands.  What….Derek isn’t going to dwell on that.

 

Instead he turns to see Boyd leaving with Erica, just in time to hear Stiles say,

 

“Thanks for sticking around, folks. But now Derek and I have some collaring- CLEANING!  Cleaning, we have soooo much cleaning to do.”

 

Boyd raises his eyebrows.  Derek wills Stiles not to say anything else.

 

“….with our dicks.”

 

“Jesus Christ.  See you tomorrow at work, guys.”

 

Boyd nods and ruffles Stiles’ hair in an affectionate gesture, while Erica gives him a peck on the cheek.  It sends a rush of pride through Derek, how easily his mate is accepted and loved by his pack.  Even if he doesn’t know how to filter his thoughts yet.

 

The door slams shut, and Stiles turns around and folds himself into Derek’s arms.

 

“How are we both OK with this?”

 

Derek doesn’t need the mating bond to know what he’s talking about.

 

“It’s what we both want.  More than anything, remember?  At least…it’s what I want more than anything.”

 

“Oh yeah, I forgot it only takes one person wishing the biologically impossible for the moon to bless their mating. Except, oh wait, it doesn’t!”

 

Stiles slaps Derek lightly on the arm and continues,

 

“I’m allowed to worry.  Apparently all I’m gonna do for the rest of my life is worry about these pups.”

 

Derek’s heart sinks.

 

 

“Because I’m going to love them so much, you conclusion-jumping Adonis!  God Derek, I love them so much already.  Didn’t know I could love something this way.”

 

Stiles leans back and looks Derek firmly in the eye, promising,

 

“We’re going to be amazing fathers, and we’re going to raise amazing pups and we’re going to love each other while doing it and have the perfect happily ever after.  It’s going to be amazing because you’re amazing and I love you.”

 

Derek closes his eyes as he tears up, and Stiles gently places kisses on each of his eyelids.

 

“You’re allowed to have this, my heart. Now go get my collar. It’s time I put it on.”

 

Derek nods and rushes out of the room, and by the time he returns Stiles is sinking to his knees, shirtless in the living room. Derek approaches him slowly, savoring the sight and the smell of his mate.  Stiles is beautiful like this, pale skin dotted by moles and collarbones pronounced from the way he bends his shoulders back.

 

Derek is undone.

 

He steps before Stiles with authority, grasping his chin and gently tilting his head up to meet his gaze.  Stiles’ eyes are blown, pupils dialated and mouth slightly open, shiny with spit already.  Derek aches for him, and he slowly reveals the collar hidden behind his back.

 

It’s a simple thing.  Black leather, about two fingers in width.  It fits around Stiles’ throat as perfectly as Derek’s own hand, and buckles with a simple silver triskelle buckle. Stiles shivers when it clasps into place, and Derek swears he has never seen a more enticing sight.

 

His mate, pliant at his feet, bearing his mark and wearing his collar, carrying his pups.  He shakes with the intensity of the moment, and his hands keep shaking as he undresses a clearly mate-spaced Stiles and himself.

 

Derek eats Stiles out slowly on the living room floor, tongue tracing around his rim as he occasionally comes up for air, drunk on the taste of his mate’s slick, to whisper instructions to Stiles. How he should play with his nipples, then his balls, then stroke his little cock like a good boy. Stiles is moaning and drooling soon, but Derek doesn’t let him come as he presses again and again against Stiles’ prostate as he continues to lick him out.  Instead, he has Stiles hold the base of his dick and hold off his orgasms, growling in approval each time he does.

 

By the time Stiles’ thighs and ass are covered in beard burn, by the time Stiles is crying and his hand shakes with effort to hold onto his dick, Derek shushes him and lifts him into his arms, sitting up and cradling Stiles in his lap, positioned right over his cock.

 

“Good boy, my perfect boy, Stiles.  Didn’t cum once without my permission, even though your greedy hole wanted you to, didn’t it?  Want to be filled by your Alpha now?  Want to clench that tight cunt around my cock?”

 

Stiles garbles and nods his head, but he’s deep down. Derek feels his approval through the mate bond, and feels himself sinking deeper and deeper into the wolf.

 

Derek slowly eases Stiles onto his cock, one hand spreading Stiles’ ass while the other keeps a firm grip on the collar. When Stiles is fully seated and moaning, Derek yanks Stiles into a passionate kiss while slowly fucking up into him.  Stiles can barely respond, pliant and full as he is, stuffed with his mate’s cock, so Derek occasionally yanks the collar back to expose his throat, leaving bruising kiss after kiss on Stiles’ neck.  This never fails to cause Stiles’ ass to clench around Derek, hot slick pouring out of him and onto their laps, the heat and sweat making them sticky.  Derek doesn’t care, just thrusts his way into an orgasm, knotting tight into the heat of his mate.  He howls softly when he does, then grasps Stiles’s collar and demands,

 

“ _Good boy_ , Stiles.  Cum now, my mate.”

 

A second later Derek’s knot swells over Stiles’ prostate and he does, arching as a soundless scream leaves his lips. He collapses onto Derek later, chest heaving as he takes in breath and his dick still spurts out cum. Derek just hums his approval and lowers them to the floor.

 

After all, that was the gentle collaring. Now he can claim Stiles roughly, flip him over and pound into him, force him back onto his cock with the collar, leave a bruise around his throat the next day.

 

His mate sighs in the meantime and snuggles close to Derek, oblivious to the future sexcapades in store.  Derek smiles and allows Stiles to pass into unconsciousness.

 

After all, they have a whole lifetime together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHH it finally happened!
> 
> Epilogue is next, with one more surprise in store! Stay tuned folks, and again the suggestion box is still open! Even if it's not for this story.


	10. The Final Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I mean, who would try to sneak up on an Alpha and his mate in their den? That person would have to be like, monumentally dense. Oh, hell…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The final chapter and surpris.

“Stiles!  Stiles, where are you?!”

 

Stiles’ head whips up, and he hastily hides the jar of cookies he was sneaking into.  Sue him, but this pregnancy diet is CRAZY- who even likes ginger this much? Werewolf babies, that’s who.

 

“Kitchen, Derek, definitely not sneaking an Oreo!”

 

3…2…boom, Stiles has arms full of fretting werewolf. He sighs and leans back, lets Derek inspect him and pet his stomach.  The last 2 months have been crazy, what with temporary career changes, getting to know the pack, and coming out to the cabin every weekend to get it ready for the arrival of the new baby.

 

Derek is hoping for a girl first, but Stiles kind of wants a little Robin to his Batman. 

 

“I thought…Stiles, I hear 4 heartbeats!”

 

O….kay.  That’s normal, one for Derek, one for Stiles, one for baby, one for….

 

“Who else is in the house?”

 

Derek growls, and his eyes bleed red. He’s sprinting to the window and scenting the air, trying to smell the intruder.

 

“I mean, who would try to sneak up on an Alpha and his mate in their den?  That person would have to be like, monumentally dense.  Oh, hell…”

 

“ _Who._ ” Derek is suddenly once more in front of him, growling in his angry alpha voice. Stiles gulps.

 

“An angry ex, maybe?  But, yours is in jail.”

 

“ _Aiden_.”

 

Aaaaand Derek’s off, Stiles’ ears wringing with his roar as his mate literally overturns tables looking for his ex-boyfriend. As if someone would pick so stupid a hiding place.  Stiles thinks about interfering.  

 

But he decides to sit back, get the gun out of the top cabinet, and go back to munching on some cookies.  He may be pregnant, but he ain’t defenseless. He cocks the gun and waits. Every once and awhile there’s a particularly interesting crash, but mostly Stiles just demolishes a pack of Double Stuffed.

 

An hour later, Derek arrives back in the kitchen, shirtless and sweaty.  It’s another great look on him.  He cocks his head, which Stiles knows from experience means he’s listening. Then where-his-eyebrows-would-be furrow in further confusion.

 

“There’s…. there’s five of them now.”

 

“Wha?” Stiles mutters around his last cookie.

 

“How are there more heartbeats now? That doesn’t…” Derek’s sentence tapers off as he comes to stand directly in front of Stiles, gazing intently at his belly.  Stiles is used to this sort of thing by now, as he’s just started to show a bit. Apparently a slightly distended belly from pups brings all the Alphas to the yard (and they’re like, I’m horny for yours…truly). He lets his own eyes wander over Derek’s form, and asks the question on everyone’s mind,

 

“So, do you just tear your shirt off when you go aggressive-Alpha?  Not that I’m complaining, but I feel like that’s an unfair advantage to use against your enemy.”

 

“Shhhh” Derek’s fingers press gently on his lips, and Stiles resists the urge to lick them.  Then Derek drops to his knees, and Stiles begins to panic a little. Out of happiness.

 

Derek’s never really blown him before. He always gets…distracted by what else is going on down there.  Is this the day?!

 

But instead Derek presses his ear to Stiles’ stomach, and when he looks back up at Stiles his eyes are full of the same wonder as when they first found out they were expecting.

 

“Stiles…there’s three distinct heartbeats. There’s three of them.”

 

“….SON OF A BITCH, Derek how is that even possible?!?!”

 

“I have no idea…I mean, 3 was my ideal number, but I thought..”

 

“What, you were just going to keep knocking me up?!? Oh that’s real great, Derek! Shit, THREE?!? How are we going to handle it?”

 

“We’re gonna be just fine.  Stiles, three of them…three little pups, running around, filling up this house with laughter…”

 

“Three sets of clothes, three messes to clean up, three kids with dirty diapers…”

 

“One will be just like me, one will be just like you, one will be the perfect combination of us…”

 

“I mean sure, did I want three too? YES.  But spread out over the course of 3 separate male-pregnancies, thank you very much!  Does the Moon ever ask me about those details?! NO, just puts them in me….WHOA there hey Derek, what ya doing?”

 

Derek’s pulling down Stiles’ yoga pants, while placing Stiles on top of the counter, legs spread.  He looks up and beams at Stiles, and any fight Stiles had in him is silenced temporarily.  Promises of blowjobs tend to do that to a guy.

 

“Stilesssss” Derek moans, inhaling at the crease in Stiles’ groin and licking at his balls.  Stiles arches up and whimpers.  Sometimes Derek will a little loopy off his scent, and it looks like now is one of those times.  He gets aggressive and handsy, like a big sexy puppy.  That came out wrong.

 

“Jesus, Derek, it goes in your mouth oowoowooooo!…”

 

Stiles isn’t even sure what noise he made, but as his head thunks back to rest against the cabinet he finds he doesn’t care. Derek just sucked him down sloppy and full of spit, one hand grabbing at his hip while the other splays protectively on his belly.  Goddamit, now he’s going to cry during his blowjob.  His mate has ruined him for life.

 

But God, what a wonderful life it will be.

 

 

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the love and support for this story. It's really kept me going. Love and kisses to you all, you wonderful readers you.

**Author's Note:**

> My box is always open for suggestions!.... that came out wrong.


End file.
